Do I matter?
by mercuryadept92
Summary: Dean's felt lost ever since Sam left, like his life's purpose has been taken away. When things start to become too much for him he looks for a way out and comes to a conclusion most people would find impossible to try. Slash. SamDean. Wincest
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everyone! It's been such a long time since I've written anything. Anyway, the following is very important. I need to warn everyone now, this is not a happy story. This is nothing like the kind of writing I usually do. This is dark and depressing, so I shocked myself when I wrote this. This was at first a challenge my friend asked me to do. She asked me to write something depressing because she had seen all of my other writing and wanted to know if I could. So I wrote this and wanted some feedback. If anyone wants me to continue this, just tell me and I'll see what I can do. Otherwise, it's a one-shot. Please review!

Story Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I am simply borrowing them in order to write.

Summary: Dean's felt lost ever since Sam left, like his life's purpose has been taken away. When things start to become too much for him he looks for a way out and comes to a conclusion most people would find impossible to try.

**Do I matter?**

'_You weren't supposed to leave. You weren't. You were supposed to stay here, with me, with dad. Why did you leave? What happened? You always used to whine and complain, but you had never really told us you were leaving. When you told us…I was shocked. Why did you want to leave? Was it really the hunting? Did Dad do something? Did I? I tried. I tried so damn hard to get you to stay, but you just got angry. You yelled at looked at me like I was dirt. Was it me? Did I do something wrong? I've always tried to be what everyone needs. I tried to be your big brother, dad's perfect soldier, the perfect hunter; I've worked so hard on being what everyone needed me to be that…I forgot what I used to be. Maybe I was nothing before any of you. I just thought that…if I was what everyone needed me to be, then none of you would ever have to leave, like mom did. Did I ever tell you I'm afraid of being alone? I never did, did I? Whenever you tried to get me to talk, I would just wave you away, telling you I hate 'chick flick' shit, but thinking back I should have told you. There're a lot of things I should have told you. But I guess it's too late now, isn't it? I didn't need to be…whoever I was before while you were here. But now that you're gone…I don't see what I was. I guess it doesn't matter. But you shouldn't have left. I could have fixed it. Whatever it was that was bugging you, I could have fixed it. You should have let me. You should have fucking let me.'_

"You should have let me try!" Dean yelled as he brought his fist down onto his Impala. The dinging noise startled him, knocking him forcefully back into reality. He looked around. He was in their driveway, their house looming over him. Shaking his head he looked at his car a little wistfully.

'_Shouldn't have done that. I'll have to get that fixed soon. Sorry girl.'_

Dean blinked, confused for a moment, '_What was I doing a minute ago_?' He looked on the ground. There was a bucket filled with soapy water and some rags beside it. Then he remembered. He had been washing his car when suddenly his thought had begun to stray. Before he had realized it, he had completely forgotten what his original task had been.

'_I guess I should finish up,'_ he thought, but as he looked at the car, soapy water half drying on the hood and windows, suddenly he felt so drained. He shrugged and picked up the rags and the water and placed them in the garage. He could finish later. He walked back inside and sat down on the living room couch. He sat in silence for a moment, until he realized how uncomfortable he felt inside his own body. Not wanting to let his thoughts go down that same path, instead Dean felt around on the table beside him, trying to find the TV remote. Instead his hand went around a frame. He looked in surprise. There had never been a picture there. He looked at it and he froze. It was a picture of Sam. They had taken it just after a hunt last year. Sam looked so happy in the picture and Dean couldn't believe he was really gone.

'_What happened between then and now,'_ he wondered silently. Dean stood up, unaware of his actions, simply gazing at Sam's picture with longing. He began to trace one finger over his vivid, glossy cheeks in a gentle caress, as if the glass actually held the same softness and warmth of a person's skin. When Dean realized what he was doing he pulled that hand away and instead just stared at the picture, trying to conjure up some semblance of hate…something to place against the person who had hurt him so much…trying to fill the hole Sam had left in his wake so that he could be…well Dean really didn't know what he wanted. All he felt was anger and resignation, an unhealthy combination at best, particularly if you were a hunter. His hands began to clench around the picture frame, angry more at himself for his lack of hatred toward his little brother.

'_I'm pathetic. Can you see this? I can't even get mad at you anymore.' _His fingers began to clench the picture almost painfully, but Dean could not feel this small level of pain; it was not enough to hurt him. Suddenly, the glass broke, causing Dean to jump in surprise, the sharp crunch snapping him out of his reverie, his usually hunter ready nerves not reacting, simply causing him to drop the picture and the cracked glass which shattered on impact.

"Fuck" Dean said as he bent down to pick it all up. Quickly sweeping up the glass and the frame, he dumped the ruined frame into the trash can in the kitchen, removing the picture in the process. Dean noticed a jagged piece he had missed and sloppily picked it up. A second later he hissed in pain as the shard of glass sliced into his hand. The pain coursed through his veins, something he could feel unlike the when he had hit his car. However, to his surprise, he found the pain sickeningly pleasing, and for the first time since his baby brother had left, Dean truly felt alive. He unconsciously began to squeeze his hand tighter so he could feel even more of that sickening, desired pain. The pain cleared the haze which had clouded his mind for so long. All of a sudden, as if realizing what he was doing, he dropped the piece of glass as if he had been burned. He stared at his hand, the blood running down his forearm, claiming all of his attention as it stained his skin red. He paid no heed to the outside world as all of his being was focused on the red, his entire world narrowed down to the throbbing pain in his arm. He began to walk, almost as if in a trance toward his room. Picking up his hunting knife, he then headed to the restroom, closing the door, but not locking it. He sat down on the toilet, not really focusing on anything.

He stared at the blade in his hand.

'_If I cry out…would anyone come? Would anyone even care? No one ever has…why should they start now? Would you? Would you even care?' _He pressed the flat of the knife to his skin, shivering at the cool feel against his warm, moist skin. '_You wouldn't…would you? You left. Why would it matter to you? If I yell, if I cry, if I beg…would you care? I would have done anything to get you to stay. Hell I would have done anything to get you to smile. Moved mountains, stopped the world, get on my hands and knees; I lived to see you smile, to see you happy. When you were sad, I would do anything to stop it, to stop what the problem was. I would give my body, my soul, my entire self just to see that one moment, that one smile. But you don't care, do you? I don't matter to you, do I? You left, without a second glance. You left, mom left, everyone leaves. I don't matter…do I?'_

Dean flipped the knife so the sharp edge was pressed against his skin. It felt good, to have the sharp edge there, pressed against his skin without any force behind it. Dean had always religiously kept his knifes sharp, and this one was no exception. Pressing with only the slightest amount of pressure, Dean was not surprised to see the red line left behind in its wake. He stared down at the vertical line he left on his arm, he made another, and another, and another, until his arm began to freely bleed. He welcomed it all, welcomed the pain with a sickening abandon, hating how alive he felt, and craving more of the feeling like a drug. He moved toward his other arm, making similar cuts to the one on his left. By the time he had finished with his right arm, his breath was shaky with pain, his arms throbbing, but he felt a sickeningly delicious feeling. Removing his shirt, he stared at his body in the mirror. Almost without thought, he moved the knife toward his stomach and placed shallow cuts in random places, scarring his once perfect skin. He felt the blood flowing down his stomach, but felt this wasn't enough. He moved the knife to his chest and left similar cuts there. He welcomed even more of the pain, even as a tear escaped his eye. It felt so perversely pleasing, a feeling he had never felt before. Unbuckling his belt, he undid his jeans and pushed those away as well. Moving his knife down to his thigh, he placed more and more cuts, reveling in the disgusting sensations which were coursing through his veins. Once his thighs began to flow as freely as the rest of him, he breathed in a deep, shaky breath. Slowly and without thought, he brought the knife to his neck and stopped.

'_If I do this, there won't be any going back. It doesn't matter to anyone…I don't matter to anyone, so why can't I do it?'_

He tried to press down, but all he could produce was a small thin line. His hand trembled as he tried to force the knife farther, deeper, but his body refused to respond, paralyzed by some unknown force. He stared again at the mirror, looking at his own reflection, disgusted by his weakness. Throwing the knife at the mirror, he was pleased to watch the mirror shatter, destroying all images of him. He was aware of some noise in the backdrop, but he ignored it instead facing what was once a mirror. His knees gave way as he fell to the floor, unable to understand what had come over him. Tears welled up in his eyes and before he knew it he was crying, completely and totally confused by what had just happened. Unexpectedly, the door flew open and John Winchester entered the restroom. He took one look at his oldest child and understanding filled his eyes.

"Dean…" He said as he knelt beside the bloody, weeping mess that was once his perfect soldier. Dean was vaguely aware of being pulled into his father's embrace, but all of his attention was placed on the cold reality of what he had been about to do. There Dean sat, in his father's arms, sobbing like a small child. Tears fell fast and hard as sobs wracked his body, unable to stop the flow.

"Dean, is this about Sam?" John asked. His son remained silent, but that was all the answer he needed.

"Dean, you don't need to do this. I know it was hard to lose Sam, but you can't do this to yourself. These kinds of things are never the answer. They might feel good now, but it won't help in the future. If you won't live for yourself, then live for the people you can save. You might not be able to live for Sam and me, but you can still help people out there."

Dean nodded silently, still sniffling, understanding what his Dad was saying. One final though broke through his mind.

'_I can't be a good brother anymore. That option's not available to me anymore. I can't be a good son anymore. Sam's the only one Dad pays attention to and no matter what I do, it's never enough. He'll probably leave anyway. But I can be a good hunter. No, not a good hunter, I can be a perfect hunter.'_

Dean thought about all he had lost. _'I'll give anything to be the perfect hunter. It's all I have left.'_

"Dean" John said, his voice almost a question. Dean recognized the tone. This was the moment where his father would was watching, waiting to see whether his son, his 'soldier' could still be of use. Dean broke away from his father's embrace and stood up, resolve in his eyes.

"I understand. I won't try this again sir." He stood up straighter and looked his father dead on as if asking him to challenge him.

John watched his eldest son, as if looking for a flicker of uncertainty before nodding, seemingly pleased with the fortitude behind Dean's eyes. "I'll let you clean up then. Afterwards, get ready. We've got some leads."

"Yes sir." He watched as his father left before closing the door behind him. Turning to the mess in front of him he shook his head. Oh well, he could clean up later. Looking down at himself, the blood half-drying on his skin and the few cuts which still flowed slightly, he almost smiled at his stupidity.

'_I can't kill myself. I have people who still need me. I can still save people. I can still help so I can't die. Look at me, I look like shit. I won't try this anymore. I won't try to kill myself anymore. The cutting…I…I don't know. It felt so good, I want that feeling again, but I won't try to kill myself again. If I only make a few cuts…I should be ok.'_

As he removed his final article of clothing and turned on the shower, his mind strayed back to Sam for a moment. _'That's right. I never told you…I fell in love you. I only found out after you left, when I tried to figure out why it hurt so much. Why I felt like I had just been ripped in two. Too unimportant…and too late, right?' _Dean looked at his knife almost wistfully and began to wonder. How long until he could feel alive again?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, people asked me to write another chapter, so I decided to try and continue. This was really hard to write and I'm not sure if it's any good. So if anyone dislikes it, then please tell me and I will just take it down and see if I can write it better. Or I might just take it down and label it as a one-shot. So please review and tell me what you think. Should I keep going into a story which will probably include Sam, or should I just stop and take this down?

Summary: Dean's felt lost ever since Sam left, like his life's purpose has been taken away. When things start to become too much for him, he finds a solution most people would find impossible to try.

Dean sat in the chair, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Dean felt despair begin to seep into his mind as he sat, sure it was futility, waiting for his father to return. '_So he's really gone. I'm finally completely alone. I wish he could've told me. I wouldn't be sitting here like a jackass.'_

Dean sighed and put his head into his cupped hands, lightly pressing the palms into his eyes. He moved to the couch of the seedy motel, phone on the small table beside it, waiting for a call he knew would never arrive.

'_I have to wait. Even if I don't think he will, I have to try and trust him. I need to trust my partner. If I don't hear anything from him by the end of today, he's not coming back. Or maybe, he's dead' _Dean found himself unemotionally thinking about his father's death. He loved his father. Dean knew he was indebted to his dad. Until know, he had been the only person who had never left Dean. However, the memory of that day, sobbing, mirror shards surrounding him, and blood drying on his skin was still fresh in his mind. That day had taught him what he considered an invaluable lesson. He knew know, he was not meant to be happy, or even content. It was his fate to be trapped in a life without fulfillment, living as a wanderer, killing for strangers who could never thank him, or who wouldn't know what he had done, and in this same life, it was his destiny to be miserable, to suffer, until the supernatural became too much and he was killed. He wondered though, if his dad died, and he found out, would he cry? Would he even give a damn? He hadn't truly felt, truly been alive for so long he was unsure whether he could respond.

'_Can I still feel? Is it even worth it? If something happened to dad, would I be sad? Would I cry? Could I cry? Would it even be worth the effort? I don't know…I really don't.'_

Dean could feel his train of thought heading in a direction he knew he would regret, so he blanked out his mind. He had become adept at it after years of practice. His eyes wandered toward his bag beside his bed and he thought about the knife, hidden under the clothes. That knife, the one he had used on the day he had tried to kill himself and the knife that he always had under his pillow. A stray desire spoke to him, to walk over and pick up the knife. It spoke swaying words in his mind, and for one reckless moment, he felt the insane urge to grab the knife. He felt the need to pass it over his skin, to feel the cold metal on his warm skin, and to feel as the sharp metal slice through his flesh. Not even that bad just one or two cuts. Or maybe three or fou-

'_No, not yet. This isn't that bad. I can take this. I can handle this. While I can, I shouldn't use the knife. No, only for when it gets too hard. Only for when I can handle it anymore.'_

Dean looked at his arm and pushed up the sleeve. He looked at the scars, pale in contrast to his tanned skin. Some were old, some newer, the two from the week before still looking a little fresh. He lightly traced the scar of the first cut he had ever given himself almost absentmindedly. Even with his promise to his father, Dean still kept this habit. This dark disgusting habit, which made him hate himself, he knew, was also the only thing keeping him sane. When things began to get too difficult, when things became too much, when he felt himself drifting away, he would add one cut, or two, just to remember he was alive. Usually they were light cuts, ones that would heal quickly and leave no mark. Every cut he made those years ago were still there and would always serve as a reminder not to go too deep. Occasionally he would leave one which was deep, but that was rare.

'_Not that if it was too deep anyone would freak. Not Dad, not Sam…'_

At the mere thought of his brother, his hand clenched as the urge to grab the knife increased by ten-fold. At that moment, Dean didn't care that he thought he could still handle his life. At he wanted was to feel the sharp edge, cold against his skin, and a moment later to feel the warm blood run down his arm as the blade broke the skin like it had so many times before. He didn't even feel himself get up and begin to rummage through his bag. Too focused on the feeling he remembered, he didn't even notice his action until the noise of the zipper startled him back into reality.

'_No! No, I don't need to do this. I'm ok' _a voice called in his mind, but the voice was drowned in the desire he felt. When Dean was finally fully in control of his own actions, he looked down and saw the knife in his hand, an inch away from his wrist. He shivered from the strain of resisting what he knew would be nothing short of a feeling of almost rapture.

'_I wonder why I haven't done it before. Why can't I? It's because I'm a hunter, but…why should I keep lying to myself. The only reason I've ever even thought about hunting is because I know that as a person I'm useless. I was a worthless brother, a useless son; all I've ever been good for is hunting. But why should I even bother? These people, I'm putting them all in danger. When my hunting gets just as worthless as I am, I'm going to end up killing people I could've saved, that some other hunter could've saved. It's all I can do, and I've tried to do other things and I always fail. When my hunting dulls, then I'll have nothing. Everyone's left because of what a waste of time I am…how long can I keep this up?'_

Dean pressed the knife gently across his skin, shivering in relief and at how sickeningly pleasing just the contact felt.

'_If I wasn't so worthless, would everyone had left? Because I was a weak little kid, mom died. That's why I tried to get stronger, so that I could protect Sam'_ Dean began to trace the tip of the knife over his skin, making shapes and figure eights over his old scars, leaving red, agitated skin, scratches which, while felt good, weren't bleeding.

'_No matter how strong I got I never managed to help out dad. Even when I tried, he never cared. But I was ok, because I could help, I could protect Sam, I could help him, keep him safe. But then he left…and I realized how much he meant to me, how much I cared about him. Because I couldn't give him what it was he wanted, what he needed, he left, and that became another symbol of how useless I am. And now Dad's left. Why did he leave though? Am I already losing my edge as a hunter? Have I already lost the only thing that makes me worth living? Worth keeping around? Have I lost my last lifeline?'_

Dean sighed in defeat, wondering if he really had lost all that was left to him. He looked down at the mess in front of him and frowned. In the midst of all his belongings, scattered on the floor from before, was a notebook. Not just any notebook, but his fathers. His father's most prized position was here, with him. Putting his knife down beside him, he bent over and picked it up, almost expecting it to fade into nothingness.

'_Did he forget it? No, if he had forgotten it, he would've come back, if not for me, then for the book. Then why is it still here? Did he leave it on purpose? For me? Why? Is he telling me that we should split up here? Is this the last thing he left me with, a way to say good-bye to me so that he wouldn't have to deal with me later? Why hadn't I noticed it before? He must have left it at the bottom of the bag, and since I really only go in there for clothes, there was no reason for me to look deep down.'_

Dean was so focused on his father's notebook, he almost forgot about the knife beside him. He opened the notebook and the first thing he saw was a piece of paper.

"Stanford. Dorm Room 13a. Dean, you know what to do. Dad" Dean read out loud, his mind not registering the words he had just read. He looked at the page and read it again and again; sure he was reading it wrong.

'_No. No. No.' _Dean thought as his hands began to tremble. _'No, dad wouldn't do this. He wouldn't do this to me. No…I can't…I can't…' _but he knew he was just being foolish. Of course he wasn't reading it wrong. A prickling made its way behind his eyes as he felt his wall begin to crumble and the first emotions he had felt in so long pushed through.

'_No, I can't. I can't go see Sam. I can't see him. I can't let him see how pathetic I've become. I can't let him see how much more worthless I've become. I can't let my baby brother see what little is left of his brother. Even if he doesn't care, even if he won't understand, I just can't. And I don't know why.'_

Dean shielded his eyes from the light; ashamed for a reason he couldn't understand. The scalding tears ran down his cheeks like rivers. It was all he could do not to break down sobbing. He knew he couldn't stop the flow, so he didn't bother, letting himself cry, wondering why he could feel so strongly just because of his brother.

'_I love him, but what does that have to do with anything. Why can't I stop?'_

Without realizing it, his hand began to move of its own volition. It grabbed the knife tightly and brought it nearer and nearer to the skin of his arm. He looked down at his hand watched the knife get closer and closer to his skin, wondering if any of this was real, wondering if this wasn't all a dream, or a nightmare, which he would soon wake up from. He pressed the knife edge to his skin and quickly made a cut; expertly making sure it was it wasn't too deep. He gasped for a minute, the pain flashing through his body, assuring him this was reality, and he smiled, a dark pleasure coursing through his veins.

'_I know I have to go. Hunting is all I have left and hunting is what I need to do. If Sam is going to be my partner then I'm not going to stop it. But right now, I just want… no need to feel alive. Sam, hunting, it can wait'_

The dull throb which had settled in his arm felt good, but he wanted more. Dean placed another cut, little deeper than before, and felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins, giving him such a disgustingly delicious light-headed feeling. The sharp pain and the dull throb combined made such a sinfully pleasing blend. Dean felt himself falling, deep and hard into the sensation. Before he completely surrendered to this feeling, his thoughts turned toward his baby brother.

'_Will he see these? Will he just know? Can everyone? How am I going to keep this from him?' _Dean thought for a moment before shrugging. He could deal with that later. All he cared about know was the warm blood on his skin, the cold knife, and the sickening beautiful mixture of sharp pain and dull throb pulsing through him with each heartbeat and intensifying with each cut.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm so sorry for the really slow update everyone. School's getting really rough, and the time I have to write is limited. Also, I lost all of my computer files and I couldn't recover anything. So I had to rewrite this. So anyway, I'm really sorry. I hope you like this chapter. A big thanks to everyone who reviewed, and to those who haven't and are reading this...c'mon, you know you want to.

Summary: Dean's felt lost evr since Sam left, like his life's purpose has been taken away. When things start to become too much for him, he tries to find a solution most people would find impossible to try.

**Chapter 3**

'_Stay awake… Just gotta stay awake…'_

Dean blinked his bloodshot eyes, the tears slightly blurring his vision. He knew he was bordering on dangerous at the moment. He only had about 5 hours of sleep the night before, and hadn't stopped since they had set out at 7 in the morning. His back ached, his head throbbed, and his eyes burned, but he just kept on driving. He knew he should stop and trade with his brother, but he knew he would never bring himself to. He looked to his right toward his brother's sleeping form. Sam was deep in peaceful sleep, his brown hair covering part of his face looking completely relaxed. He looked so innocent to Dean, like his little brother always used to look. He rarely saw his baby brother look so tranquil, and he couldn't bring himself to wake him up. A smile almost made its way onto his face; a real smile, not like the brazen façade he always put up. However, no matter how happy it truly made him to see Sam look so calm, the smile wouldn't form. The numb feeling he had felt for so long had become ingrained into him, and so it was truly almost pointless to try and make it go away.

'_Because my smiles aren't important unless there's someone I need to show them to._' Dean thought with a calm acceptance.

He hated lying to his brother, but he understood it was something he would always have to do. These past months spent traveling with his brother he had fully mastered putting up fronts, making himself look content. He knew he would have to do this for as long as he could.

'_Because you know he'll leave once he figures out your dirty little secret, you sick bastard' _Dean's mind reminded him.

He knew that he could never show his baby brother this…side of himself. This side which relied on a knife to keep him sane. The side which still held onto emotions. The minute Sam found out how sick his older brother had become, how dark his soul had been tainted, how useless he truly was, how dirty he really was, then he would leave, and Dean couldn't let Sam leave him again.

'_No, that's not why. You think he's staying for you? Don't be stupid, you worthless bastard. You've never been worth anything to anyone, not for real anyway. He's only here because you can help him get revenge. Don't forget that.'_

No, Dean was traveling with Sam because his brother had wanted revenge and because his Dad had asked him to. So like any good soldier, he was following orders. It wasn't because he thought he could offer anything else to his brother, not because he would like to think his brother and him could actually get along…for real without fronts and lies. It was simply a mutual necessity. Dean chose at this moment to ignore the true vast amount of power his baby brother had over him. How with just a smile he could make him feel elated. How with just a tear he could make Dean's heart break. How Dean would do anything for him, do anything he asked. There were times Dean just couldn't help himself. Parts of him would reveal themselves, a real laugh, a small smile, a sentence with actual meaning, and every time he would regret it. It was at these times which the knife called out to him most, when it looked the most attractive, more so than any person or anything which Dean had ever seen or heard of. These moments were becoming more frequent, and with Sam around so much, it also made the time with his knife available that much more restricted. Originally he had been so frustrated as Sam and him got closer and closer together. It wasn't like before his baby brother had left, but it was improving. And that wasn't part of the plan. It made the time he could use the blade less and less frequent. Eventually he discovered he could get away with making one or two cuts inside the shower. So every time he took a shower, he would take the knife, hidden under the clothing, and make the shallow incisions on his skin, either on his upper arm, or on his thigh, both places Sam couldn't normally see. Every time Sam would call him on taking such a long time, he would make some sarcastic comment, but on the inside, a voice would laugh sardonically, reminding Dean why he couldn't tell Sam. However, just thinking about Sam leaving was enough to bring the knife to his mind.

'_We shouldn't be that far from a motel, or a rest station. While he looks peaceful, I'm in no mood to slit my arm in the car. I'll get blood on the leather.'_

Just the thought of the sinful pleasure of the cold metal slicing through his flesh and the feel of his warm blood as it ran down his arm was enough for him to almost begin to speed, looking for the next place to stop.

'_Not yet though'_ Dean's mind warned. _'Pace yourself. You shouldn't be doing this so often. It's sloppy, and you can do better. This isn't even that bad yet.'_

Even so, the urge to speed was still there. But doing that would probably wake up Sam, and he really didn't want to do that until Sam had another place where he could just fall asleep. He looked toward his right again, at his brother's sleeping form. A stray urge to stroke Sam's hair made itself known, which he immediately shoved down.

'_You're not even allowed to think that, much less do it. Not only would it freak him out, but you shouldn't be thinking about such stupid things'_

So instead he just focused on driving, trying to blank out his mind with a simple action. After only about 5 more minutes, he passed by a welcome sign and let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he would be able to get some rest. Just at the thought, his eyes began to burn again, and his vision blurred by tears. At this point he did begin to speed up, his body beginning to feel the need to rest.

'_I would kill to just stay here. Just for a few days for me to recharge. A few days without having to drive, so that I can breathe. But we need to get to the coordinates soon. We're almost there anyway; I'll just relax in a few days.'_

"Dean, let me drive." A voice from his right cut through his thoughts.

"Nice to see you've finally decided to join the living Sammy." Dean said, the sarcastic comment thrown in for Sam. "I got it, we're almost there anyway."

"You just swerved really noticeably. Be lucky it's late, or a cop would have thought you were drunk."

Dean laughed, in the way he knew Sam would expect. "Yeah, and let you drive my baby. Try again."

Sam smiled, and a thrill ran through Dean, causing him to almost smile for real again.

"Yeah, Dean, what a great idea, we'll get killed in a car crash. I'm sure Dad would just be proud of that."

"Better than going to hell." Dean stated, leading Sam on, part for show, and partly, which he would never admit to, because he was enjoying his time with his baby brother.

"And how to you figure we'll go to hell if I drive?" Sam said with a laugh

"Not we, just me."

"Fine then, how will you go to hell?" Sam questioned, a playful tone in his voice.

"Well, you'll do something retarded with my car. You'll probably get a scratch on it, or you'll get something on it. And then I'd have to kill you. So in the end, I'd go to hell."

Sam laughed again, and this time Dean couldn't help it. His lips involuntarily curved into a smile, a real smile, as he laughed alongside his brother. Their laughter rang loudly in the small car, and Dean's numbness was replaced slightly with elation and happiness. He really did love moments like this. Where he and his brother could act normally, instead of dealing with the hunt and acting like they were someone else. A moment where he could forget everything. Demons, spirits, werewolves, vampires; they all disappeared at times like these. Even the fact that it was all supposed to be an act could almost be forgotten.

'_But never forget. This isn't real. You're not supposed to feel anything. Feeling is for people who matter. People like you are simply supposed to do what is necessary for those who really live, like Sam. Do not forget.'_

Suddenly, the smile was wiped from Dean's face and he didn't feel much like laughing. The numbness returned full force. The knife in his bag made itself known in his mind, and he made a mental note to step into the shower as soon as they got to the motel.

"Hey Dean, are you ok?" Sam's voice still sounded happy, but the tone did nothing to alleviate Dean's mind from its lack of feeling.

"Fine" Dean responded, without even trying to make a fake smile.

"Dean, you sure?" This time the voice came with concern, but Dean wasn't sure why.

"Worry about yourself. I said I'm fine"

"Then what's with the sudden quiet. Are you su-"

"If I hear 'are you sure' or 'are you ok' one more time, I'm going to stop the car, beat your ass into the ground, and leave you here." Dean cut in, taking himself by surprise with his own anger.

Silence permeated the air, and Dean felt something stir at the bottom of his heart. When he looked to the side at his brother and saw the hurt on his face, the feeling intensified, and his stomach did uncomfortable flips. What was this emotion mixing with the numbness? In the unfeeling haze he was used to, Dean tried to identify the feeling which he had forgotten so long ago.

'_Guilt…_' was all Dean could think. He sighed loudly.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry. I'm just tired, and you were asking the same question again and again. So sorry, didn't mean to snap at you Sammy."

He turned to look at his brother, and was greeted with an understanding smile from Sam which quelled the guilt and returned the feeling of content happiness.

"Yeah, don't worry about it Dean. Just you get kind of moody sometimes, and I've been meaning to ask you about it, and I just thought now would be good. You got nothing to apologize for."

Dean let another genuine smile reach his face and focused on parking the Impala in front of a motel he had just found. It looked horrible, but it was the perfect haven for Dean. He could finally get the rest he'd been needing. They both got out of the car and picked up their luggage from the trunk before heading toward the motel.

"Hey Dean, just one thing."

"Yeah, what?" Dean asked without thinking, the emotions creating a high for him he only felt when his knife cut into him.

Dean felt his little brother's arm wrap around his neck and he froze. He could feel heat rising up from the back of his neck to the backs of his ears, and he willed it not to get to his face. His heart began to beat faster and faster from the simple contact, and he was sure Sam could hear it. Suddenly he was hyperaware of everything, from the heat coming from his brother's body to the scent coming off of Sam which he always associated with his baby brother.

"You know you can talk to me if something's bugging you, right?" Sam asked, apparently unaware of how uncomfortable his brother was.

"Y-yeah Sam, thanks" Dean responded shakily. An instant later Sam was inside the motel speaking with the clerk and the moment was over. Dean walked into the motel, not even acknowledging the clerk, his mind still focused on what had happened.

'_What the fuck is going on? Why can't I calm down? My hearts still beating really fast, and my ears are still burning. Why is Sam doing this to me? Why is he messing with me? I'm not supposed to mean anything to anyone. I'm not supposed to be able to help Sam except to hunt. He doesn't really care about me anyway, or at least he's not supposed to. I'm not worth it. So why am I still freaking out?'_

Try as he might, Dean couldn't come up with an answer to the responses. Without thought, he trailed behind his brother, who was speaking with the clerk about something he didn't bother to hear. As soon as the stepped into their room Dean put his things down by a bed and sat down on a seat in front of a TV. A perpetual chain of replaying what had occurred and the questions he had asked himself outside made him devoid of the fatigue his body had complained about only a moment ago.

"Umm…Dean?" came Sam's voice, his ears barely registering the noise.

"Uh, what Sam?" Dean asked, responding rather quickly despite his lack of focus.

"Aren't you gonna come to bed? I thought you were falling just a few minutes ago?"

"Uh, yeah, don't worry about it Sam. I'll go to bed in a bit. I was just thinking about something."

"If you're sure…then goodnight." Sam said, but Dean didn't even hear him, engrossed once again in the arguments of his mind.

'_What's happening to me? Why can't I just let this go?'_

* * *

_'God this doesn't make any sense. I can't let this go and I don't know why and my brother shouldn't be acting like this, but he is…Fuck it all to hell.'_

"Dean? Dean are you ok?" Sam's voice came from behind him, full of concern.

"What? Uh, yeah…I'm fine." Dean responded without really paying attention.

"Dean. Dean, look at me." Sam voice persisted and Dean knew his brother wouldn't let him have any peace until he did.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Dean asked after fully turning to look at his brother. The concern on his brother's face saddened him. He wished he could wipe that away, but he wasn't sure what was causing it.

"Did you sleep at all Dean?" Sam asked, confusing his older brother. What was Sam talking about? Then he finally took in his surrounding again and understood. The sunlight coming from outside and the noises coming from outside were more than enough, but even so, Dean looked at his watch.

'10 AM!? Fuck I didn't sleep the entire night. Something's gotta be wrong with me.'

"You didn't go to sleep did you? And please don't give me any bullshit."

Dean considered lying for a moment, but only for one moment. "No, I didn't."

"What happened? You're in the exact same position I saw you in before I fell asleep."

"Nothing happened, jus-"

"Dean, like I said, I don't want to hear any bullshit. You need to get sleep. You're my partner, and I'd rather not have my partner have slow reflexes and die on me while their supposed to be watching my back"

Dean's eyes widened in a realization. _'That's why he's been worried. Because he needs someone to watch his back. Not because he cares, but because he still needs me to do my job. This is why huh?' _Now that Dean understood his little brother's actions, it made the path he should take form here quite clear. Although, and he would never admit this to himself, he felt a slight disappointment in finding out why his brother cared about this. He almost wished he had been right, and Sam had cared, but again, his denial wouldn't allow it.

"I just couldn't get to sleep. I don't really get it. It was really stupid on my part, but I was just thinking about childish things. Sorry if I worried you Sammy."

"Are you sure you're gonna be alright? You haven't slept at all."

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll be ok. I'll just get some rest when we take a break or something."

To his surprise his brother shook his head. "No Dean, I'm driving today." Dean was about to protest when his brother chided "No, I don't care what you're about to say. You need to get some sleep. Just let me drive for today."

"Or what, Sammy?" Dean led on his little brother, just a joke added so Sam wouldn't worry.

"Or I'm gonna get really pissed off. Where are the car keys?"

"On the bed I was supposed to sleep in. And what a great comeback by the way."

Sam laughed. "Fuck off"

Dean chuckled as they headed down to the car in silence. In almost no time they were in front of the Impala with Sam in the driver's seat for the first time in a long time.

"Be careful with my baby Sam, or else" Dean warned as he settled into the seat.

"Or else what?" Sam challenged

"Or I'm gonna get really pissed off," mocked Dean as his eyelids began to grow heavy. Now that thoughts weren't ravaging his mind, he realized how exhausted he had been.

"Shut up and go to sleep" Sam ordered as he pulled out of the driveway.

"I think you finally came up with something smart. Did college teach you that one?" Dean mumbled as he fell into a blissful, dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello everyone. I'm so sorry for the huge wait for an update. I had this ready on Saturday, but when was done it was late and I decided to post it on Sunday morning. But when I woke up, everyone in my family was suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning. God, it was horrible. We all had migranes and nasea, but for some reason I was effected the worst. I ended up passing out outside the house, and when I woke up, it was just to end up dry heaving and vomitting. Anyway, because I wrote this in a migrane, semi-passed out state, this probably has a lot of errors. Sorry. Anyway, this chapter has less emotion I guess than the others because this was to get the plot moving along. I have everything planned out now, so I just need time to write. Thanks to anyone who read this and either left a review or favorited or alerted the story. Enjoy, and make sure to leave reviews!

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**Chapter 4**

"That…told us absolutely nothing." Dean stated as they got into the Impala. They had been interviewing a woman for their next hunt. Her name was Julia, and her husband, a cop, had committed suicide, just like three other people that same week. For his input he was given a sharp smack to the head by Sam.

"Hey, what the hell was that for?" Dean turned to his brother and saw anger in his eyes.

"That lady had to watch her husband die. You could show a little compassion."

Dean looked his brother straight in the eyes and responded, "She's not here to see me have compassion."

"So you're telling me you don't feel bad for her?" Sam challenged.

'_I don't feel much of anything these days Sam. Lack of compassion is the least of my worries as a hunter. Why is he being so stubborn about this? That was anger in his eyes. Why?_' Dean thought until he remembered, _'Sam saw Jess die. That's why. How did I forget that? That's the only reason he's coming with me. For revenge. God I'm so stupid sometimes.'_

"That's not what I mean." Dean lied, knowing Sam would probably get even angrier if he said what he really thought. Or even worse, he might just leave altogether in his anger. If he enquired as to why his older brother hadn't cared, then things would have gotten even worse. "Sam, remember we're hunters. We can't be wasting our time. She gave us no new information to go on, and we're still stuck at square one. That's all I was saying"

'_Feelings like compassion only get in the way. Feelings period get in the way. You, Dad, this life, they all taught me that. Just…you were the last straw.'_ He added silently.

"I know, but you could've shown a little more compassion. Even when you talked to her, you sounded kind of cold hearted, although I don't think she noticed." Sam muttered, the anger now gone.

"Yeah, dude, I understand, and I'm sorry, but like I said, we could have done something better with our time."

"Like what?" Sam replied

Dean faltered for a moment, unsure.

"See, you can't even come up with something" Sam accused

"We could have tried to just track it down, using me as bait."

"Dean, I'm not letting you be used as bait if we don't know what it is." Sam said, sounding concerned.

"Fine, then lets figure out what it is, what it wants, and then we'll use me as bait."

"No, I don't want you in danger. I don't want to see you get hurt" Sam said stubbornly. A warm feeling settled into Dean's chest for a moment at the thought of his brother's concern, like a candle in the darkness, before the cold numbness washed it away.

'_Worried about me now? Thanks, but the time for someone to do that for me is long gone. I gave up everything already that I didn't need. Hopes, ideals, dreams; all gone. You don't need to worry about someone who doesn't even care about living. All I need is to make sure we kill the demon, for mom, dad, and you. Then I can vanish, into the woodwork of people. I'll stay out of any state I could possibly find you in. Not that I think you'll look for me anyway. After all of this, I'll have outlived my usefulness to you and Dad, but I'd rather not run into the two of you by accident. I'll hunt one more year after that. I'll dedicate one more year of my life to helping people. I'll work with other hunters. Then… I can finally rest…for good.'_

"Dude, chill, I'll make sure nothing happens. Wouldn't want to hold us back just because I can't hunt. Then you'd have to kill me like a lame dog, and that would be a really shitty way to die."

"That's not even funny, don't joke like that. I'd never hurt you." Sam said, sounding a little hurt.

"God, it was just a joke. Don't go all girly on me. Yeah, I know you won't hurt me." Dean said and mentally added _'If for nothing more, you still need me to help you'_

"Would you stop joking around?!" Sam said, angrier than before.

"Jesus, Sam, relax." Dean was surprised at how angry Sam got over something he thought was nothing, but he kept everything to himself.

"Sorry, just…god." Sam's frustration told Dean something was bugging his baby brother.

"Something bugging you? You've been really easy to piss off, and while it's my job as an older brother, I also want to make sure you're ok."

"Nothing, just, you…never mind, let's just review everything we know and see if there's anything we missed."

"If you're sure…" Dean wanted to keep pressing his little brother for info, but he knew when Sam needed space.

"Yeah, ok, so what do all of the deaths have in common?"

"We've gone over this list a hundred times Sammy, something new won't pop up out of nowhere."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know that, but I also know that thing'll kill someone else again, tonight, and I really don't want that to happen."

"Ok, fine. There are no similarities in gender, age, occupation, or anything else that can tie the victims together. All of them sound like their hallucinating, since they all yell that whatever they can hear is lying. They all act strange for one day before killing themselves.

"So Dad's journal doesn't say anything about this right?"

"Yeah, it doesn't say anything about something that can do something anything like this. I would just guess it was a spirit, but you said no one died like they did right?"

"Yeah, there are no deaths that sound at all similar that would make a vindictive spirit. So what else could it be?"

Dean shook his head. "Nothing, that's the damn problem. Well whatever it is, we better catch it or it'll kill another person tonight."

"So…what's the plan?"

"Go and see if you can find anything on the internet. We can't fight what we don't know, like you said."

"And what'll you be doing?"

Dean offered a falsely sly smile, knowing he should act smug about it. "I'm going to the bar. We're short on cash."

Sam laughed. "So let me understand this. You'll be playing pool while I'm doing research?"

"Before you start complaining, you suck at pool, and if we relied on you to get us cash, we'd have died a long time ago." Dean made sure he sounded like he was joking.

"Fine, you ass. Alright, I'll see if there's anyone in the state that died like this, and then I'll look through Dad's journal again. You better get us money."

"Just focus on your job, ok geek boy?"

Sam just responded by laughing.

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Dean walked back toward the motel, content enough with the money he had won. He was sure they'd have enough at least until the end of the month.

'_God, my back is killing me. But that's what I get for playing pool for hours. I wonder if Sam's found anything. With any luck, he has and then we can finish this soon.'_ For reasons Dean couldn't understand, he suddenly felt an itch in his fingers, a slight urge to grab his knife and feel a bit of the pleasure he had denied himself for at least a week.

'_It has been a while since I used it…but I should wait until we finish this hunt'_

"Why bother? It won't change what you're doing, or how sick it is." Came a feminine voice that broke the silence of the night

Dean turned around to find the source of the voice, but found no one anywhere near him. He shook his head, thinking he was hearing things, but grabbed the knife inside his jacket as a precaution.

"That knife does look like it could be fun to use though. I can see why you like it. And you keep it so sharp."

Dean kept completely silent, but sped up so he could reach the motel room as quickly as he could. He had a feeling he knew what this was.

'_So this is what we've been hunting? What is it? Where is it?'_

"I'm right here Dean. Right behind you. Are you sure you want to go back to the motel?"

Dean ignored the voice, knowing it just wanted to goad him into doing something foolish. He needed to get back to Sam, so they could figure out what this was and how to deal with it.

'_Just breathe and stop listening to her. You need to calm down. If she wants to possess you, then if you keep calm you'll be ok. All I have to do is get to Sam, and I shouldn't have any trouble keeping her out of my head.'_

"First of all, give me some credit. I would never do something as simple as a hallucination or a possession. God, humans as a whole are negative, but you hunters are something else. But that just makes you all the more fun to break and play with. I love emotions. Oh, and Sam won't be able to help you if I manage to get to you" A shrill laugh soon followed

"That's great to hear," Dean said, although he felt troubled that Sam wouldn't be able to help him, "only, you screwed up lady. Sucks for you, but my brother's the emotional one. I'm just empty shell."

"Oh, well that is a problem. Maybe…I should just go after him." The voice this time came as a whisper, but with just one sentence, Dean felt a white burning sensation in his stomach push away the numb which he had become so accustomed to.

"Don't you dare, you bitch! You stay the fuck away from my brother!" Dean's yell broke the silence around him, but he could've given a less of a damn if anyone though he was crazy.

She laughed. "What happened to 'I'm just an empty shell'? Oh, and if you've forgotten, that feeling, it's called anger."

"Oh, really, thanks for informing me." Came Dean's sardonic response.

"Now, now, no need to be so nasty. Anyway, I thought I should mention this. You do still have those emotions. Love…hate…happiness…sadness, it's still here. You just don't want to use them."

"Would you shut up?"

"Want me to go after your brother?" when Dean didn't respond, she continued, "I didn't think so. Now, I want you to go into this alley. It would be so troublesome if someone saw you die, although things get much more interesting that way."

Dean looked around and saw he was in the alleyway beside the motel room, right under the window of the room where Sam was probably asleep in right now.

"That wasn't intentional, but you're right. Won't this be a laugh? What'll your brother say when he realizes he could've saved you?"

"Lady, sorry, but you have the wrong person. He won't give a rat's ass if I die, so long as I've helped him get closer to his revenge. You picked someone nobody cares about." Dean's voice came out matter of fact and a little louder than he normally spoke.

"Well, that's fine too. All I really wanted was to see blood one last time." And then Dean felt his vision fade away into darkness.

"I thought you wouldn't do something as simple as an illusion?" Dean said, even as he felt the color drain slightly from his face

"This isn't an illusion. I simply caused temporary blindness. I want to talk to you without distractions."

"Why are you doin-"

"What do you think your brother would do in this situation? Would he fight?"

"Would you stop going back to my brother?" Dean started to get annoyed with this thing's obsession with his baby brother.

"But I find siblings so amazing. And you two especially. So close together, and yet he knows nothing about you. He doesn't care enough to bother trying."

Dean brushed off the sting of her comment. "He does try, but I don't let him. Besides, he and Dad have their reasons for being the way they are"

"So if that's true, why don't you let him? Because you don't want to get hurt? Or because you're afraid of how disgusting you are?"

"Would you shut up?" She was really starting to get on Dean's nerves.

"Have I hit a nerve? Did I maybe say something I shouldn't have? Do you maybe think that your habit isn't as bad as you think? If it isn't, why don't you just tell little Sammy? Or maybe you just don't want him to leave you."

"GO THE FUCK AWAY!" Dean yelled into the darkness as he placed his hands over his ears.

"Oh, so it's because you don't want him to leave then, right? You're afraid he'll leave once he figures out what a useless little bastard you really are. You just don't want him to tell this to you in your face. You want to hold on to that little hope that maybe he does love you."

"Shut up…" Dean's voice was weak and thin, cracking over the simple words.

'_I don't want to hear this. I don't…_' Dean's thoughts spiraled with what she was saying, and any defenses he had against her were thrown down by his misery.

"Or maybe, it's because you're afraid for another reason. Maybe you're scared that he'll not only think you're dark and tainted because of your little 'lifeline', but also because of what you feel for him."

"I don't feel…I don't…" Dean kept saying. He didn't need to hear this. Didn't need to hear about this dark piece of himself which he had managed to lock away so efficiently.

"But you can, Dean, and you do, especially when it's tied to your little Sammy. He's the best way to get a rise out of you and I know why"

"No, you don't." Dean's voice came softly. Vaguely, he could hear something, or someone at the edge of his consciousness, but he ignored it, and tried to retreat into the sanctuary of his mind, the one place he used to be safe.

"You know what I'm talking about, you sick little bastard. You know years of suppressed lust and love tend to take their toll on a person. I'm surprised by the sheer power of this emotion, and you're keeping it all in. So much for empty shells, huh?"

"That's not true…it's not…"

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Remember, you can't lie to me. I can see everything in your mind like reading a book. And I see what you feel for your baby brother. Sickening incest. Lust for your little brother, how sad. What do you think he would say? Do you think he would accept it and let you down easy? Are you hoping maybe he'll return the way you feel? Or is it more likely that he'll shun you and leave you? That's what you're afraid of, right, you stupid weak bastard?"

"Easy to answer. He'd leave." Dean stated. It wasn't hard for him to say it, and once he did, he knew he had lost. He didn't even feel like fighting anymore. This was where he was going to die. This was the end, so why not be honest before he went?

'_What a shitty way to die though…' _he thought for a moment, before deciding he really didn't care.

Dean could feel the smile in her voice as she continued. "And so it's over. I thought it would be a little harder to break you. Oh well. At least when I get sent back to hell, I'll be able to take you along. Like a party favor that bleeds.

"You…don't…bitch" Dean could hear another voice now, like a voice on the radio with static, but he chose to ignore it

"So, what now?" Dean asked, "Do I just sit here and then you'll take me with you? Also, since I'm going to die, what was the connection between the victims and me?"

"Oh, no, not at all. You have to die too. As to my victims, you see, the link between all my victims is very easy to see. When I felt you as a potential victim I thought for sure you would notice."

"All people who are, or who have been suicidal, huh?" Dean felt like a fool for not figuring it out sooner.

"No…listen…me" the other static filled voice sounded louder this time.

"Bingo. And now Game Over for you." Her voice was then followed by laughter

"Hey, before I die, what's that noise? That voice, it's kind of familiar." Dean felt curiosity for once in a long time. Hell if this was the end, why not ask what he felt like asking.

"Don't worry about it. Now, just listen to my voice. I'm sure you won't resist anymore. If you would be so kind as to start with the cutting.

"Sure." Dean felt empty now that he knew he wouldn't be able to stop this anymore. "Sam, sorry. I can't help you and Dad find the Demon. I wanted you to be happy and go back to your normal life. Tell Dad I'm sorry I fucked up. Watch yourself, ok? I won't be around to take care of you anymore"

"No…stay with…focus…voice"

"You know that other voice is really starting to get kind of lou-"

"Who cares? Just hurry up would you?"The voice was starting to sound edgy, impatient.

"Damn, ok." Dean said as he pulled his knife out of his pocket and pressed it to the skin of his left arm. He sighed for a moment and shivered at the feel of the blade on his skin, and suddenly he was comfortable again. This wasn't intrusive, like her voice. This was something from his routine, and so it calmed him down. And so slowly, and very methodically, he began to place similar parallel cuts on his left arm, reveling in the pain, not caring about his imminent death. His blood began to ooze from the cuts and Dean smiled hazily.

"Yes, that's good, let it flow, uncontrollably. Let the life flow out of you. Watch as you slowly lose all you had, all at once."

"No…please…Dean…stay with…please."

"Oh would you just shut up already?! You're starting to piss me off!"

"Who is?" Dean said, through the pain induced, ecstasy-like haze.

"No one, just shut up and finish this. Then we'll spend the rest of eternity burning in hell together"

"Back…bitch…he's my Dean!"

"Sure, it's not like I'm doing anything productive with my life. Why not? Hell doesn't sound so bad." Dean said this so matter of fact, he almost scared himself

"So slit your wrist. No reservations this time"

Dean moved the blade to the center of his left arm, not even bothering with another response, but before he could press the knife into his skin he felt two large hands wrap around his right arm, one immobilizing it and the other taking the knife. Dean squawked in protest as it was taken away. Now without it he felt nervous, scared even. He weakly tried to get out of the strong grip, his heart thundering as he tried hard not to break down. He felt the backs of his eyes sting with unshed tears and his body beginning to tremble beyond his control. He just wanted to let this go. To end this all, but this thing wouldn't let him.

"Dean…me…focus…I know you can…please…it's Sam"

Everything in Dean froze when he heard the name. An instant later, suddenly his vision was back, and he found himself face to face with Sam. He was back in the alley, on the ground, his legs numb from sitting on the cold cement. However, all Dean could see was Sam. His baby brother had been the voice, had been the one holding his arms, and had been what had saved him.

"S-Sam?" Dean was afraid this was an illusion. Maybe he was already dead, already in hell, and this was all a lie.

"Dean, can you see me? Can you hear me?" Sam's face was tear-stained and relief shone from his face. Too choked up to even be able to speak, all Dean could do was nod yes.

"Oh, god, Dean, you scared the hell out of me. I almost lost you. Don't ever do that again. Please." Sam voice sounded scratchy from crying, like any minute now he would start sobbing. Dean began to tremble again, and he felt his baby brother wrap his long arms around him, pulling and locking him in an embrace. Now feeling safe inside his brother's arms, Dean couldn't help but let himself go.

"Sammy…" was all Dean managed to say before, for the first time in his life, he broke down in front of Sam and wept.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hello everyone. I was swamped with homework this weekend, but yesterday a bout of insomnia let me finish writing this chapter. So I'm posting it now before I get to work on my Statistics, Art, Spanish, and World History work. I apologize for any errors in grammer or spelling as I wrote this at about 3 in the morning. I checked it over, but still. Also I want to thank anyone who has reviewed. You are all my heroes. And like always, please leave reviews telling me what you think.

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Chapter 5 

Dean felt lost. So lost and confused like he had all those years ago when Sam had left him behind, when he had shown him how little he truly mattered. The older Winchester didn't understand what was going on. Why was he crying? Why couldn't he stop? No matter how hard Dean tried to stop the scalding hot tears which flowed freely down his face, he couldn't. Sobs began to wrack his body as the wave of emotions inside of him intensified. He felt Sam shift so that the younger Winchester had his back to the wall and had pulled Dean virtually onto his lap, anchoring him there with a tight embrace. Dean grabbed his brother's arms tightly, but he was unsure whether he was trying to get them off or if he was trying to cling to something he found familiar. The older Winchester tried to find some way to stop the sea of tears, but it was like all of the tears he had left unshed had now found a way to escape and now they refused to stop, having been denied that time and again. Dean felt his brother lean close to his ear and begin to say soothing whispers into his ear.

"Shhh…Hey it's ok…Just let everything go…I've got you…I'll keep you safe…You're ok, you're safe and that's all that matters…just let it all go. Shhh…"

Dean listened to each of his brother's attempts to comfort him, but all they did were intensify the body trembling sobs.

'_Why are you acting like you care, Sam? Stop, it's not worth it. I'm not worth it. You know that. You taught me that. Why are you trying to make me feel better? Please stop. I'm not supposed to be weak like this. I'm not supposed to have these feelings. I'm supposed to be strong. So that I can help you do whatever you need. I'm just supposed to be a tool for you to use in whatever way you need me to. So why can't I stop crying?' _Dean's mind was yelling at his body to stop, but it was already far beyond his control.

Minutes melded together as Dean continued to break down further and further until he couldn't even think straight. All he wanted was for all of this to end, for the tears to stop so that he could pretend a little longer that he was strong, that he was useful. Sam continued to whisper his words into Dean's ears. The older Winchester tried not to focus on them, but instead they untied together in his mind, creating messages of warmth and protection that Dean was sure wasn't meant for him. Time seemed to blur together as Dean slowly began to regain control of his body. The sobs began to die down into small hiccups and his tears began to dry into sniffles. He felt his little brother's embrace begin to slacken and move him gently off, and Dean couldn't help but let out a small whimper.

'_Control yourself, you dumbass. What the hell are you doing? Stop acting like some kind of fucking casualty and focus you idiot. Sam can already see how weak you are. Your stupid little breakdown was more than enough of a show for it. He doesn't need another reason to leave you behind. He needs someone strong to help him. Your little brother's not gonna stay for much longer if he needs to babysit you, so stop with the whimpering. You're not worthy of having emotions, so stop trying to emulate them'_

"Hey, its ok, Dean. I'm not leaving. I was just getting up. Come on; let's get back to the room so we can fix you up. You're not bleeding, but still..." Sam's voice sounded soft and comforting, but even so, Dean couldn't bear to bring his gaze up to meet his baby brother's eyes. He felt his cheeks flame in shame and he thought to himself in disgust as he stood up and walked beside his brother back to the motel room, with Sam's arm placed in a comforting manner around his shoulders.

'_Stop acting like the damn victim!'_ he continued to chant in his mind the entire way back to the motel room. Still, even so, he couldn't help but lean slightly onto his brother's comforting figure. They made it back much quicker than Dean would have liked, and he stayed in complete silence as Sam sat him down on one of the twin beds in the room. His baby brother moved away for a minute, and this time Dean forced himself not to cry out as the familiar, comforting touch left him. A minute later Sam was back with alcohol, some bandages, and a slightly moist towel. The older man remained in silence as Sam carefully cleaned away the blood which had dried onto his skin. A second later, however, Sam stopped his ministrations.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Dean asked, still avoiding his little brother's gaze.

"Nothing, just, I need to add the alcohol…" Sam trailed off at the end.

"And?" Dean's voice still sounded flat.

"It's just, it'll sting. I didn't want to surprise you."

"Don't worry about it. Chances are I won't even feel it."

"Alright then, hold on…" Sam began to slowly swab at the cuts with the strong smelling liquid, but Dean was hardly aware of even an itch in his arm.

"I don't think these will need stitches."

Dean tried a feeble attempt at a smile at this point. "Thank god for small mercies."

"Yeah…" Sam then began to bandage up Dean's arm, talking softly about one thing or another, and the older Winchester knew Sam was just trying to get his guard down so he could ask questions. As his baby brother chattered on, Dean wondered how he could make sure Sam wouldn't just leave him behind as soon as he healed up.

'_If I just apologize and promise to never make a mistake, that'll be way too odd coming from me. I don't think I have another choice though other than to beg forgiveness for my weakness…'_

"Hey Dean" Sam said, knocking him out of his reverie before he could fully begin to think about what his next course of action should be.

"What?" Dean finally looked up into Sam's eyes. He had expected disappointment, or disgust, but to his surprise he saw concern and love shine from the brown eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it? What happened?" Sam voice sounded soft, hesitant, and the older Winchester wondered why his brother was being so nice to someone like him.

"Not really, but you want me to, right?" Dean didn't even need to hear his brother's response to know what he would say.

"I think it'll help, but it's up to you. I won't force you to talk. I'll leave you alone until you're ready if you want."

The older felt his eyes widen in surprise. Sam always pushed and pushed until he couldn't take it anymore and he would just reveal something, but for the first time, Sam was actually willing to let things die.

'_Damn, I must really look pathetic.'_

"You were there, weren't you? You saw what happened." Dean felt himself grow defensive, but he wondered if it was just better if he told Sam what he wanted to hear.

"Yeah, but I only got there when you yelled for her to go away."

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. "How did you know it was a she?"

"I could hear what was going on. What she was saying. Or at least some of it." Sam sounded matter of fact, but Dean felt his blood run a little cold.

'_How much did he hear? Did he hear what I do when no one's looking? Did he hear what…what I think about him? Oh, god, this is so terrifying. What if he did? What if he did and he's just acting nice, but on the inside he feels disgusted?'_

"Dean? Are you in there?" Sam's voice came crashing through his thoughts.

"Oh, uh…sorry, I was just thinking. Umm, how much did you hear, Sam?"

"Nothing I could make any sense out of. Not that I was trying." Dean breathed out a sigh of relief, but there was an odd catch in his brother's voice which confused him. "Oh, god Dean, I was so scared. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. That was horrible. You looked so defeated and then you…you tried to…that look in your eyes... the things you were saying…"

"I'm so sorry Sam…" Dean managed to get a word in edge wise. He really didn't want to see his little brother break down, when he was still so close to falling into pieces himself

"Why are you sorry?"

"I screwed up big. Really big. And I almost died. I…there shouldn't have been any reason for me to mess up so bad…it just kind of…happened." Dean forced himself to maintain eye contact with Sam, even though all he wanted to do was drop his gaze.

"Dean, you don't need to be sorry for that. That wasn't your fault. You've saved me thousands of times."

"But that's different." Dean argued before he could stop himself.

"How is that any different? I save you, you save me, so long as we're both ok it doesn't matter"

"But it does," Dean persisted, "I'm not supposed to mess up. I'm supposed to be strong enough not to mess up, to be able to pick up after myself. I'm supposed to give you the support you need, not mess up so that you end up having to babysit me."

"Dean, you're not making any sense. People mess up. It happens, and that's why we have people around us, to help us fix our problems. I'd never think you weren't strong, even if you mess up. I don't think I'm babysitting you. You're allowed to screw up sometimes. You're only human."

Dean remained silent, even as his mind began to yell at his little brother.

'_No I'm not. You need someone strong to help you, not a weak bastard. What if I keep messing up? What if I screw up even worse next time? What if I'm not the one that has to pay the price? What if I screw up next time, but instead I get you hurt? Oh, god, Sam, what if you die next time? What if you die because of my mistakes? I can't let that happen. I won't. I couldn't handle that. If I got you killed, I…I wouldn't be able to handle it. But how can I keep you alive if I can't even keep myself from screwing up?'_

"Dean," Sam's voice rang in his mind, "…Dean, are you ok? You're trembling again…"

Dean immediately clenched his fists and forced his body to still. Clenching his left fist hurt just a little, but it didn't feel as good as the pain normally did, because now, it wasn't a way to remember he was alive. Now it was a mocking call, a reminder of how horribly he messed up, and how close he had come to killing himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just a little tired I guess." Dean attempted another smile to try and quell his brother's fears.

"Are you sure? Do you want to go to sleep? Or do you want to just relax? Or we can talk about this, if you want."

"When did I give you permission to get girly on me?"

Sam frowned and the older Winchester wondered what was wrong now. "Dean, this isn't a joke. I just want to make sure you're ok. And don't try telling me you're fine. I know you're not."

'_Sam, you don't know a damn thing about my problems right now. And I can't tell you. But I can't just let things go here. When did things get so complicated? It used to be hunt, lie, and cut in restroom. Why can't it go back to the way it was?'_

"I," Dean sighed, "I'll make you a deal. I'm…not really comfortable with…this, but I know you'll want to talk some time. I'll answer one question for now. Just one."

Sam nodded and Dean let relief almost wash through him, except he knew this isn't over.

"If I hadn't stopped you…would you have really let her convince you to kill yourself?"

Dean bowed his head, almost regretting the deal he had just made. "I…She already had. I was ready to when you saved me…"

"But why? How did she convince you? What was she telling you?"

"I said I'd only answer one question, Sam."

'_And that was hard enough.'_ Dean added silently in his mind.

"But…fine. So, what do we do now?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, confused.

"About the demon, or the creature, or whatever. What do we do about her?"

"I…I don't know. She killed one person every day, but she messed up this time. I'm not sure how either."

"What do you mean?" Sam sounded confused and Dean remembered his brother had only understood bits and pieces of what had occurred.

"Well, she was supposed to get me to kill myself, but when you got there, I couldn't hear her anymore…She said she wanted to see blood just one last time before she moved on, so she could be gone… But since I'm the only one who was similar to her victims and didn't die, she might come back for me-"

"I won't let her even get near you," Sam interrupted, "I'll let her attack me if she wants, but I'm not letting you get hurt again."

Dean felt the backs of his eyes sting for a minute at the conviction in his brother's voice to protect him, but he quickly pushed it away.

'_No, Sam, I'll never let you die for me. I'm supposed to be yours to use, not the other way around.'_

"Sorry Sam, but you don't fit the bill for her victims. At least I hope you don't."

"How are you the same as the rest of her victims?" Sam asked, and the older Winchester froze.

'_Fuck. Great job. This is what I get for having such a damn big mouth. What now? I can't just say it's people who want to die.'_

"I-I'm not sure, but it could be people who feel like…someone needs them for something still, and so she decides to make them feel worthless." Dean felt the blocky lie slip past his lips and hoped his brother would just accept it.

"I guess…but, then why do you hope I can't be a victim of hers?"

"S-so you don't get attacked by her." Dean continued, although this was something he hoped would be true.

"Dean, you're lying to me." Sam said, his eyes narrowing.

"Wh-What, no I'm no-"

"Don't give me that crap. That's the stupidest excuse I've ever heard."

"It's not a stupid excuse. It's what I think. Don't make fun of it." Dean felt surprised as the anger began to well up in his stomach, causing his voice to rise.

"You don't want me to get attacked by her, so you hope I don't think someone relies on me? You're lying. And you know how she chooses her victims, but you won't tell me. Why?"

"I'm telling you that's what I think" Dean could feel the anger get stronger and stronger, causing his voice to rise again.

'_For once, Sam, don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong. Let this end here' Dean _thought as he watched his brother get angry too.

"Why don't you want to tell me? What the hell is it your hiding?" Sam's voice matched Dean's as they both got to their feet, too angry to simply stay put.

"I'm not hiding a damn thing!"

"Yes you are! That was the dumbest explanation I've ever heard. And right now, you're getting defensive about it. You can't tell me you don't know!"

"Sam, do me a favor. For once, stop with the damn pushing and let…this…go."

Sam seemed like he was about to retort, but suddenly stood up and headed toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, his voice still loud.

"Out. I need some air." And an instant later, the younger Winchester slammed the door. Dean remained standing for another moment before collapsing onto the bed in what could have been exhaustion or relief.

'_Jesus Sam. Why are things always so hard for you to understand? If I'm lying to you, it's for a good reason. Just accept it.'_

Dean began to think about the woman's voice in an attempt to distract himself from thinking about the argument with his little brother.

'_What if she does come back? If she's like any other spirit she'll be back…but she said she wanted to see it just one last time. So did she move on…or she just waiting 'till to tomorrow to come back? If she comes back…I don't think I'll be able to stop myself. But what if she's pissed I didn't die? What if she comes after Sam? What if she tries to kill Sam?'_

Dean's mind began to freak out again at the thought of his brother dying because of him.

'_What if Sam dies because of me? What if Sam dies because of me?_' was repeated in his head in a panic-like haze. Dean stood up and walked to the bathroom, unsure of what he was doing. Once inside, he locked the door and sat down with his back pressed to the to the cheap motel wall. He began to put his hand into the pockets of his jacket, when he pulled his left hand out in a jolt of pain. He looked at the small cut on his index finger. Gingerly, he put his left hand back into his pocket and then slowly pulled out his knife by the hilt.

'_When did I get this back?'_ Dean thought before realizing he really didn't care at the moment. He briefly thought about the pleasure he would have had tonight while 'taking a shower' if that woman hadn't intervened. He looked down at his bandaged wrist, and in an instant, made a decision. He moved the blade to the center of his left palm.

'_How did everything get to this? I could've killed myself. If this spirit had been different, I could've hurt Sam. I could have killed him. I can't afford to screw up anymore. I can't let him leave me behind because I'm not useful. Not yet. But right now, I just need this. Just need the pain. I feel so empty right now. Just need to feel, just for a second.'_ Dean thought before making a pressing and slashing movement, and for the first time since he had done this, Dean miscalculated. The blade went deeper than he had thought it would and the pain was far greater than it had ever been before. Almost an instant later blood began to flow almost uncontrollably at an alarming rate and Dean dropped the knife as if he had been burned.

'_Did I just mess up…again?' _Dean thought before simply succumbing to the sweet pain in his hand.

Minutes, hours, Days? Dean wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, just watching the blood flow from the large cut he had inflicted on his palm. He knew he should be worried. The cut was way deeper than any he had ever placed on his flesh. He could see that clearly from all blood, which seemed to paint the tiles, his clothes, his arm, everything a deep crimson red. He grew light-headed and his vision began to double and blur, but he didn't care. He began to feel so empty, so tired he couldn't find it in him to move, to even bother with trying to stop the dark liquid's flow. Dean briefly wondered what Sam would say once he came back, but he put it out of his mind, sure his little brother wouldn't care. So what if his worthless older brother was bleeding on the bathroom floor? Dean moved his head backwards to lean against the wall and was about to close his eyes when he heard a whisper, or maybe it was a yell? He could hear a light tapping at the bathroom door. The tapping intensified and Dean wondered what had decided to bother him. A second later a loud crash sounded as the door was kicked in, causing Dean to almost giggle in humor. Who needed to get in so bad, they'd kick in the door?

"Dean!" came a cry from the now broken door. Through the lightheaded feeling Dean turned his head to see Sam looking down at him, a look of horror etched on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hello everyone. I'm sorry for the really long wait. I haven't had any time to write because of how close my finals are. But yesterday, my body decided to be insomniatic again. Maybe that's not such a good thing, but the point is I managed to write this during that time. I've looked over it, but if there are any mistakes I'm sorry. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and everone who has either put this on alert or favorites. And please leave me review with what you think.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

For the longest time Dean just looked at his little brother, a lazy, almost amused smile on his face even as the blood from his hand continued to flow. Sam was just standing there, and the older Winchester couldn't help but wonder why.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" Dean said idly, shifting his gaze to the ceiling. Then, just as time seemed to have stopped it sped up again and suddenly his little brother was at his side grabbing at his arm in shock.

"Dean! Are you ok?" Sam asked, fear evident in his voice

'_Why do people always ask that when things like this happen?_' Dean wondered as he began to close his eyes.

"No! Dean, listen to me. I need you to stay awake? Ok? Just stay awake? Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" Dean said and began to stumble in an attempt to stand up. In an instant, his brother was at his side, helping him up.

"Come on. Let's get you out of here. We'll get to the hospital and then everything will be ok, I swear." Dean felt his little brother drag him up and quickly move him through the room and out the door. The older Winchester smiled despite wanting to stay where he was. For all his complaining, Sam was strong, almost as strong as him if not the same. His little brother was dragging his dead weight along as if he was nothing, just something to be thrown over your shoulder. Before Dean could be sure of their surroundings, they were already in the Impala, Sam speeding out of the motel as quickly as he could, speed limit be damned.

"You should slow down Sam. If you wreck my car, I don't care how dizzy I am, I'll kick your ass." Dean smiled sluggishly at his own joke.

"Dean, stop joking. It's not funny. Please." Sam's voice was angry, or maybe afraid, the older Winchester couldn't tell at that moment.

"What crawled up your ass and died?"

"I just…Fuck! I'm so sorry, Dean. I shouldn't have left you alone! Not after that. Not after she failed to kill you. I knew she'd come back for you. God, I'm so stupid!" Sam's voice was trembling, like he was almost about to cry.

Dean let a short laugh escape his lips, earning himself a weird glance from his brother. "You're funny, Sammy…"

"How is this funny?!" Sam sounded frantic, nervous. "You've almost been killed, twice, by that thing because I was so stupid I left you behind."

"Sam, what are you babbling about? This was all me. I just screwed up this time." Dean began to ramble, losing his coherency as the darkness at the corners of his eyes got stronger and stronger.

The Impala swerved quite noticeably, and Dean was jostled awake. "Sammy, have you been drinking? You're driving like you've been taking hard liquor…or a beer. You suck with alcohol." Dean smiled, feeling oddly peaceful.

"What, do you mean that was all you? Did you do that to yourself? Did you cut your own hand? That lady didn't come back?" Sam sounded even more afraid than before.

"No duh, Sammy. I'm not going to get caught by the same thing twice. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not as stupid as you think I am."

"Dean, I don't think you're stupid…" Sam's voice held a helpless tone, like he didn't know what to say anymore

Dean laughed quietly, just a small exhale of breath before starting to close his eyes again.

"No! Dean, come on, just stay awake a little longer man. We're here. We're at the hospital already."

"Dude, quit bugging me, I'm trying to go to sleep…" Dean mumbled as he fully closed his eyes. He could barely hear his brother anymore, and letting the darkness take over felt like the most natural thing in the world as he lost consciousness, drifting off in a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Dean could feel his head pound as blood surged in his temple. He shifted a little and found himself lying down, cold, and slightly uncomfortable. 

'_Am I dead? Did I actually kill myself?'_ Dean thought stupidly for a moment before his hunter instincts kicked in.

'_Don't panic. Pretend you're asleep. Focus on getting as much out of your surrounding before you show you're awake. Ok what's around? There are beeping noises and the room's dark. I'm lying down. It's small and uncomfortable, so I'll say small bed. I'm cold, so there's A/C, which means I'm in a building. And it smells like someone's cleaning a freaking bathroom. Cleaners and bleach and all that other crap. God I hate this smell, it always reminds me of a…a hospital. Fuck, I'm at the hospital.'_

Feeling like an idiot for panicking, Dean opened his eyes, blinking away the lightheadedness from just having woken up.

"Damnit Dean," the older Winchester heard his younger brother's voice and froze. He turned to his left and saw his brother sitting in a chair, so focused on staring at his now bandaged arm that the younger Winchester hadn't even noticed Dean had woken up. "How long have you done this to yourself? There are scars everywhere; all up and down your arms and on your thighs. I can't tell which ones are from hunting and which ones you made yourself. I should be able to tell. I should be able to tell the difference, but I can't. Five years ago I would have been able to tell you how you had gotten every scar on your body, but now I just don't know. How is it I never noticed? You've been so different since I've gotten back. Most of the time you've been ok, but then there are times you're moody or weird. And then the doctor said you sounded like a person with severe depression and the scars are proof you've been doing this for awhile."

'_He knows…'_Dean thought sadly. Tears began to prick the backs of his eyes, but he quickly blinked to push them away._ 'No, stop with the damn crying. You've done that so many times already; Sam must be getting tired of it. When did I become so weak? I need to pull myself together, even if for just a few seconds. Now that he knows, it's just a matter of time until he leaves anyway, so there's no point in crying about it. I just have to control myself until he goes.'_

"What else did the doctor say?" Dean said, forcing his voice to work, and causing the younger Winchester to jump up.

"Dean…" now that he was focusing on his younger brother, he noted his appearance. Sam looked terrible. His eyes were red-rimmed and tear trails were drying on his face.

"I guess then…that you know…" Dean said, wanting to look away as Sam's face hardened in what he guessed was hatred and disgust.

"Yeah, I do." His little brother said coldly, but he didn't continue, leaving the task up to Dean.

"So then, I guess you want to talk about this, right?" Dean finally couldn't take it anymore and looked away, shame coloring his cheeks. To his surprise, a minute later, he felt a hand at his cheek. His eyes flew up again to his brothers, leaning into the touch. He could see love and compassion shining in the liquid brown eyes.

"Not yet…When we have more privacy, I want to talk to you." Sam's face hardened again and Dean felt like shrinking, melting away so his brother wouldn't look at his like that. "But I'm going to expect an explanation when I check you out. Which actually should be today, since you've woken up."

"What exactly happened after I...you know" Dean tried to look away, but his little brother's hand was firm and prevented him from looking away.

"We were in front of the hospital when you finally passed out. I carried you in and they asked me what happened and immediately started pumping you full of blood. I told them I found you like that and the doctor labeled it an attempted suicide. Then he examined your body and found several scars which looked self inflicted. I…I thought this was just a onetime thing, but when he pointed out all the scars I…"

"How about my hand?" Dean asked when his little brother trailed off.

"You're lucky you didn't need stitches. It was deep, but the real reason you passed out was because the cut bled on its own for awhile without any treatment."

"Ok. Can you get me out of here? This is the last place I want to be."

"I'll see. Hold on." Sam said as he got up and left the room. Dean waited, 1 second, 2, 3, before he pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes to stop the flow of tears from escaping again.

* * *

The hospital allowed Dean to leave a day later. He had been ready to leave as soon as the lightheaded feeling had gone away, but the hospital said they needed to do some more examinations. The doctor redressed his wounds and assessed his physical condition. Although weak from hunger, Dean was fine physically. The doctor, however, had recommended that Dean go to a psychiatrist, or someone to talk to about his problems. Dean had begun to protest when Sam thanked the doctor and took the psychiatrists name. His little brother told him, the quicker they were done with this the quicker they could leave. And so Dean made an appointment he knew he wouldn't keep before leaving. Now that they were back at the motel room, Dean felt relief at finally being back in his element, but knew that in a few minutes his little brother would demand an explanation, and then he would leave, leaving Dean to pick up the pieces to the puzzle of his life which had shattered the first time he had left. 

"Dean." Sam's voice was quiet, but the older Winchester flinched, expecting some kind of a yell or an assault. When nothing came, he waited, expecting Sam to continue.

"I'm not letting you blow me off this time. I don't care if I have to tie you to the bed to force it out of you, you're telling me everything. No more lies, no more fronts, got it?" Sam sat down on the bed opposite from his own and watched him, the younger Winchester's tone taunting, as if daring him to say otherwise.

"I wasn't planning on lying anymore. I'm tired. I really don't give a damn anymore about what happens." Dean meant it. He was tired. His body, mind, soul, all of it just wanted peace, just wanted to be free from it all.

"Give a damn about what happening?"

"I thought this was…never mind. I'm just tired, you know. I guess like feeling defeated. I'm not even gonna try to hide anything. I don't think it's worth it in anymore."

"When was it ever worth it to hide something like this, Dean? How could it have ever been worth it?"

"I liked how you looked at me. Like I couldn't mess up, like I could do something right. I didn't want you to look at me the way I know you will. I didn't want you thinking I'm a tainted, disgusting bastard." Dean changed posture, loosely wrapping his arms around his knees, bringing them closer to his chest.

"Dean, I'd never think you were any of those things. You have to know that. You are strong, but everyone has problems. You should have come to me if something was bothering you this much."

Dean laughed, earning himself a glare from his little brother. "Sam, I think you have your roles mixed up. I'm the older one, not you."

"That doesn't matter. It's only a four year difference. You could have still come to me for help. You could have still told me what was wrong."

"No, I can't, Sam. I know you mean well, but don't promise things you won't be able to keep later."

"Dean, what do you mean? I can do this. I can help you."

"No you can't. One of us has to be strong, and you can't be that person."

"Why?" Sam asked quietly

"I can't do that. I can't do that to you…to myself. I can't let you have more issues than you already do. Your girlfriend's death, it's what's keeping you here. Revenge. You don't need to be babysitting me. You and I both now you won't be able to keep taking care of me for very long. And once you're done with revenge, what'll you do? Leave, right? And what'll happen if you leave after I start to depend on you? I'll fall to pieces again. I can't do that to myself."

"Dean…I…I don't…I mean…" Sam seemed tongue-tied, unable to even form an idea for what he could say.

"Sam, it's ok. I understand. Once your revenge is finished with, you're going to leave me again. I don't want it to feel like it did the first time. I knew if you found out you'd leave, so I-"

"You thought I was going to leave you if you told me?" Dean looked away, not wanting to answer. A minute later his brother continued. "Listen to me. I'd never leave you. Not without know you're ok."

"I am ok. That's why I keep telling you that when you leave I'll be fine."

"This is not ok. You know as well as I do this isn't healthy. You even said you didn't want me to think you were sick and disgusting. How can you be ok?"

"I'm ok, that's all you need to know. I've done this long enough to understand what I'm doing."

"Are you listening to yourself? What about your hand? How is that ok?" Sam said, starting to sound angry again. At the accusation, Dean faltered for a moment before managing to continue.

"Look, Sam, I know I messed up this time. But I won't do it again. I'll be more careful next time. I promise."

"Next time!? There's going to be a next time?! Dean, how am I supposed to trust you if you keep hurting yourself?" Sam accused, igniting a small spark of anger inside Dean.

"Look, Sam, say all you want, but don't talk about this like it's something you can understand."

"What else do I nee-" Sam began before Dean cut him off.

"Sam, let me ask you something. If I hadn't messed up, would you have noticed?" When he saw his little brother's face fall he continued, "Exactly. I've only messed up once. And I don't plan to do it again. I can promise you I won't try to kill myself and I won't go that deep again, but that's all I can do."

"So, you're just going to keep doing this and pretend like nothing's wrong? How long have you been doing this for you to have convinced yourself this was ok?"

"I can't do anything about this now, and neither can you. You want to worry about my habit? You're 5 years too late." Dean stated, giving Sam his answer.

"Wait, 5 years? Since…" Sam stopped, his silence explaining everything for him.

"Yeah, since you left, Sam. I started doing this a few months after you went to Stanford. And since then, it's become my lifeline; the one thing keeping me sane."

"Why? Why did you start?" Sam asked, his voice cracking, emotion laced in his voice

"Why? Do you really have to ask? Because you left. Sam when you left I…I stopped functioning. I…it felt so wrong, to be there without you. You were…are everything to me. I didn't know what to do without you. I felt so empty, so meaningless without you there. I could've handled anything else. Hunting, people, Dad, none of it mattered so long as I could protect you. But you left, like you could have given less of a damn. And that fucking hurt, Sam. It fucking hurt. It wasn't right. None of it. You weren't supposed to leave. It was like I didn't matter to you…and after a while I realize I didn't…I don't…matter to anyone. Then I cut my hand, on accident. And it felt so good, so right. I felt alive, even if it was just for a second. I realized, I could feel that again. I could keep on feeling that delicious feeling because, if I don't keep myself sane, who will?" By this time, Dean was trembling, barely holding himself together as he continued his narrative. "No one. No one ever has and no one ever will. That's why I need this. This needs to be my lifeline, because without it I would've lost myself a hell of a lot sooner. I need to do this, alone, because it's the only thing I can count on."

"Dean, I never knew how much my leaving hurt you. Why didn't you try to talk to me?"

"5 years without each other. That goes both ways, Sam. I doubted it would've mattered much I had tried to call you at any point. It wouldn't have fixed anything. At first I really did want to keep in touch with you, something, anything to still be connected to you, but when you didn't even try to send me anything, talk to me, I stopped hoping for it. And I found something else to keep me sane. And now it's all that keeps me going"

"Dean, listen to me. I know I messed things up. I do, and I'm so sorry. But I never want you to do this again. I will never understand how much I must have hurt you, but please, don't use this kind of a lifeline ever again" Sam pleaded, sounding dangerously close to tears.

"Then tell me, Sam, if this isn't my lifeline, then what am I supposed to do?" Dean demanded, cursing himself for the prickling behind his eyes.

"What about me?" Sam said so quietly Dean had to strain his ears to hear him.

"What about you?" Dean asked. "I know you want to help me, but you can't saved the damned, especially if they don't want to be saved."

"Dean, stop talking like that and listen to me! When you almost died, I didn't know what to do. That was the first time I've ever been so terrified. It was just…I couldn't handle it. And finding out you did it to yourself was the most awful thing I've ever felt. The fat that you were hurting so much, that you'd done it for so long, and that I never noticed was the most horrible feeling I've ever felt. I don't ever want to feel like that again. I don't want you to do this anymore. Please, Dean, I never want to see you like that. I don't want you to do this anymore."

"Sam, I can't just stop. It's a part of me. I already told you that. I don't have anything else that keeps me going"

"What about me?" Sam asked again, his eyes roving over his brother's face as if searching for something

"You keep saying that, but you don't tell me why! What are you talking about?" Dean said exasperated.

"I'm saying, what if I was your lifeline?" Sam began to grow quiet again.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked with a slightly hopeless tone in his voice.

Dean watched as Sam looked at him intently, his brown eyes smoldering. Every nerve in his body yelled to move, but the way his little brother was watching him rooted him to the spot. Slowly he watched as his brother inched closer and closer, until, suddenly he felt Sam's lips press against his own. His eyes widened in shock as suddenly he was hyperaware of everything, the silky feel of Sam's lips on his own, his little brother's soft hand as it covered his own calloused one as he got closer, the heat coming from his brother's body, even through their shirts. Dean could feel the urge, the want, to just let go, let himself get lost in the pleasure of the kiss, but the shock prevented him from doing so. He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to wake up and have this all be a dream, but at the same time he didn't want to ever move away from the chaste kiss. After another minute of sweet bliss, Sam pulled away, leaving Dean feeling twice as confused and his mind pleasantly buzzing.

"Dean, I mean, let me in. Please. Stop doing that to yourself. Let me be your lifeline." Sam said, before moving in again for another kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hello everyone. I'm so sorry for the super long wait. I was supposed to have a lot of free time during this vacation, but I got sick. Really, really sick. I got sick right after Christmas, and I didn't get any better until the 31. So I only just managed to get this finished. I feel so bad for not writing for such a long time, but I couldn't get my laptop to work correctly until just recently too, and I wasn't allowed to get near the other computer. Still, I managed to get this done, so I'm really happy. If this has any errors, I'm sorry, but I'm still not feeling great, so just tell me where it is and I'll fix it. And I have good news. Since I feel bad for waiting such a long time, the next chapter will be up later tommorow or Sunday at the latest. So leave a review for this one, and come back tommorow for the next one. A big thanks to all of my reviewers.

**WARNING: **This Chapter has sex in it. I'm giving everyone fair warning now. This was also hard to write, so sorry if it sounds bad.

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Chapter 7

"Wh-what was that?" Dean managed to rasp weakly before his throat closed up in powerful emotion. Fear, love, anger, guilt, sorrow, more feelings than he thought he had ever felt at one point, all swirled together in his mind indistinguishably.

"It was…I…," Sam sighed before blurting, "I want you, Dean. I have for the longest time."

'_Wait, he doesn't want to leave? He wants this? He wants…me? This is why he doesn't want to leave?' _Dean wondered as he simply stared at his brother.

"Dean, please, say something, anything." Sam pleaded, his voice causing Dean to stop his musing.

"Since when? For…how long? I mean for how long have you wanted to…do this?" Dean asked after a moment, unsure of what to call this thing which had suddenly changed all the rules of their relationship.

"Years. Since before I left for Stanford." Sam said, the honesty ringing in his voice.

"What?" Dean looked up in surprise, astonishment etched on his face.

"Dean, I…when we were kids you were everything to me. You were my father, my mother, my brother, and so much more. You took care of me like family, you hung out with me like a friend, you fought to protect me while hunting and you were my hero. And as time went on, I guess I started to develop feelings for you. At first when I started to look at you differently, I just thought it was admiration; hero worship for the person I admired most. But one day, I think I was 17, I saw you walk out of the restroom in nothing but a towel. And I just froze. I'd seen you naked millions of times, but that time, I don't know, it was just different. It turned me on, more than you would ever believe. And that freaked me out. Suddenly, everything you did was sexy as hell. The way you smiled, the way you spoke, the way you moved."

'_So that's it, is it? He wants my body, doesn't he?_' Dean thought sadly as the puzzle pieces finally began to click correctly in his mind. Sam wanted him, or rather his body. He looked at the uncertainty in his little brother's eyes, wondering what was stopping him from claiming what he wanted. As time began to drag on, he saw his brother fidget and become even more unsure. Then it dawned on Dean.

'_He wants to know if I want him. I guess it would be pointless to sleep with someone if they didn't find you attractive.'_

Realizing what he needed to do for his brother, Dean leaned forward, just as slowly as Sam had before him, and placed another chaste kiss on Sam's lips, this time near reveling in the though that it was him who had started this.

"What was that?" Sam asked after they had parted, surprise clear in his eyes. Dean smiled widely, knowing Sam needed reassurance in order for him to understand that he could take anything from Dean he wanted.

"Well, Sam, last I checked it was called a kiss. And they say you're the smart one." Dean's heart skipped a beat as he saw his brother return the smile and suddenly become sure of himself.

"So this goes both ways?" Sam asked again, although, Dean could tell from the grin on his baby brother's face that he was only making sure.

"Yeah, it does." Dean said, the confession melting on his tongue. This was one of the few times he didn't have to lie to Sam. He did want this, more than he had ever wanted anything before. Just the look on Sam's face would have been enough for him to have been happy. Dean looked up at his baby brother and saw that the look on his face had completely changed. It was dark, serious.

"Sam, what-" but Dean didn't have time to finish his question before Sam near tackled him onto the bed, crushing him with his weight and his lips. This time the kiss was far from gentle, his little brother's tongue pressing hard on his lips, demanding entry. After the shock had died down, he felt his body respond, moaning into Sam's mouth as he gave the younger Winchester the entrance he had just demanded. His baby brother wasted no time in exploring his mouth and Dean felt his little brother's warm pliant tongue skim every surface of his mouth. After another moment, Dean shyly returned the favor, going slowly to ensure he didn't do anything Sam wouldn't enjoy. Minutes melded together as both let go of the emotions which they had suppressed for years, and the tidal wave of lust and want which they had forced down for so long was now returning in full force, refusing to be denied after so long. When the burn in their lungs became too much, Sam pulled away, leaving them both panting and slightly red faced. As Dean stared up at his little brother, a thought crossed his mind.

'_What if he only wants a one-night thing? What if this is just a way to compensate for losing Jessica? I wouldn't be too surprised. Who'd want to be with someone like me, as disgusting as I am? I know he can't love me. No one can. And I could handle just letting him have my body, but a onetime thing would kill me… I need to stop this. I need to know what he intends. ' _Dean thought in fear. He was about to voice his objections when Sam leaned in close to his ear and began to whisper, his breath tickling the older Winchester's ear.

"I've wanted you for so long, Dean. Watched you sleep with every woman in every town, and I'm damn tired of it. You never saw me look at you in jealousy, did you? I want you, Dean. And I'm not going to stop until your all mine." Sam growled, a possessive glint in his eyes as he raised his head once more, causing Dean to shiver in lust. He could feel guilt course through him too, for even thinking about ending Sam's pleasure. The two conflicting emotions of guilt and lust waged war inside him even as Sam relieved him of his shirt, which had begun to cling from the sweat created by the heat of his baby brother on top of him. Seeing Sam look at him in a predatory gaze, Dean felt his entire body begin to flush, his face in particular turning a deep shade of pink. Under Sam's scrutiny, Dean began to squirm under his brother's weight until Sam bent down and nipped on his collar bone, causing him to moan and jump in a lust filled surprise.

He could feel his desire begin to overpower his defenses. The pleasure inducing bites Sam was leaving on his collar bone were almost more than he could take. Half of him wanted to push his little brother away and ask why he was doing this, why he wasn't leaving him now that he knew, but the other half didn't want to care. All it wanted to do was have Sam hold him close, let Sam take complete control, to take whatever he wanted, do whatever it took to keep his little brother with him a little longer. And as Sam moved up to place another kiss on his lips, something inside of him broke. He couldn't take it anymore. He didn't care if being used was just another way people show they don't love you. He didn't care if Sam was just using him. He needed this. He wanted this. And if it would keep his little brother with him, then he would do it, no matter what it cost him.

'_I'm nothing more than his toy; a way for him to get to release. Just a warm, convenient body, an easy lay. He already knows how repulsive I am. He should've just yelled and left. Why else would he stay? But that's fine. I can give him this. Even if I can't give him anything else, this I can let him have. He already owned every other part of me. My heart and soul were his long before this. Why not let him have my body to do what he wants with, too? Even if it's just this once and then he leaves. Even if he wants to only have sex. Even if this kills me inside, I'll do this for him.' _Was Dean's final rational thought before he simply let his body take control, setting aside all his worries, fully knowing that soon, very soon, he would reach his limit and would shatter, this time, beyond repair.

"Sammy" Dean moaned, closing his eyes as his brother bit his chest particularly hard. Sam's hands began to rove over his entire body, feeling every part of him as Sam's mouth claimed his body inch by inch. Dean began to tremble, this time with lust, as time began to pass with Sam cruelly teasing with bites which left red marks in their wake. Dean slowly snaked his hands to the bottom of Sam's shirt, and slowly pushed it up, reveling in the feel of the warm skin, slightly moist with sweat. His little brother pulled away for a moment to fully remove his shirt and then moved back down near Dean's naval. Now, Sam placed kisses instead, and his movements became far gentler, causing Dean confusion even through the delicious warm feel of the younger Winchester's mouth on his body.

"Sam…Sam, what are you doing?" Dean stuttered, opening his eyes to look at his brother.

"I kind of thought I was being kind of rough. I know it's girly, but I want this to be kind of special, you know." Sam flushed a slight pink and Dean chuckled.

"Go however you want, Sammy, this is all about you." Dean affirmed with a small smile.

"Us, Dean, about us," Sam chided with a smile. Dean locked eyes with his brother and hoped that the thrill which had just run through him at his brother's words wasn't visible to the younger Winchester.

"So there's an us?" Dean asked, hoping to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah, you know I'm pretty sure that what we're doing right now amounts to there being an us." The younger Winchester laughed and Dean couldn't help the large smile which graced his features.

'_Don't forget. You're just an easy lay to him. Don't get all emotional. Huh, to think I'd ever be able to think of myself as being too emotional.' _Dean thought as he closed his eyes and laid back. He waited for something to happen, for lightning to strike him and take him away just a moment before he could get as close to true happiness as he would ever get, or for Sam to make another move. But nothing happened, for the longest time. After a minute, he opened them again to see his baby brother just staring at him. A bout of insecurity ran through Dean. The thin, white scars which crossed his body from both hunts and self-infliction could be seen even in the weak light of the setting sun. He knew the question which must have been burning on his brother's tongue. What if it disgusted him? What if Sam stopped because of how disgusting he was? When Dean saw his brother's eyes unusually bright, worry began to grow along with the uncertainty.

"Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean asked as he squirmed, slightly uncomfortable to be under his little brother's scrutinizing gaze.

"Just…you're so beautiful." Sam stated before placing a quick chaste kiss on Dean's lips, causing the older Winchester's cheeks to flame a bright pink. He averted his eyes, embarrassed, and a little ashamed of something he couldn't understand.

"But?" Dean continued, knowing there had to be something on his little brother's mind for him to have stopped like this.

"It's just…which scars did you make yourself?" Sam asked with a pleading tone

"Why?" Dean asked, shame laced in his voice. "Does it really matter?"

"Yeah it does. Dean, I can't look at your body and…and not wonder which of these were my fault." Sam's voice was filled with a guilt which alarmed the older Winchester.

"Sam, none of these were your fault. They never have been, they never will be. These are my fault, not yours. Don't blame my sick habits on yourself." Dean insisted, although he still couldn't look his baby brother in the eyes.

"I thought you said you only started doing this because I left you and Dad." Sam insisted, and the older Winchester's heart clenched. He could feel the guilt radiating from his little brother and he knew he had to stop it before it grew. Sam had an unhealthy habit of putting himself through guilt trips even if he couldn't have helped what had occurred, and Dean refused to add more baggage to the large load his brother already felt he had to carry.

"No, I said it was just the last push I needed. Chill, Sam. Even if you had stayed, it would have happened eventually."

"But if I had stayed-" Sam began before Dean interrupted him

"If you had stayed the only difference would be that you would've been miserable for a hell of a lot longer. At least this way, I figured this all out quicker."

"Figured what out?"

"Sam, please don't make me say it out loud. I…can't again." Dean blinked quickly to prevent his tears from even welling up.

"What you said…it isn't true. I'm sorry I couldn't figure this out, but you do need to know...you are important."

"Right, of course I am." Dean said sarcastically, barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes, "Past hunting, I'm worthless. And I'm even starting to slip up there. Dad and all of the other hunters we worked with while you were gone…none of them would've had a problem with this stupid bitch. And I didn't even manage to kill her. That's why I was…when you found me. I don't have anything to live for. At least none I can think of."

"Dean, please, if you won't live for yourself, then live for the people who still want you around."

Dean let out a mirthless laugh. "And who wants me around?"

"I do. I want you around for as long as I can hold on to you. Please, live…live for me." Sam pleaded, and Dean could hear an almost uncertain tone in his brother's voice.

'_What's he playing at? Why is he so dead-set on making sure I don't die? Because he wants this? Because he wants me? ' _Dean thought, completely unsure of himself. What did he want? Why wasn't Sam just leaving? _'Still, if it keeps Sam here, I don't care what I have to do. I can think about this later. Right now, I just have to make sure he won't leave me, at least for a little while.' _Dean nodded, and the smile Sam gave him was almost enough to break his heart. He didn't know what Sam wanted out of being nice to him; he didn't know what his little brother was trying to do, but if this was what his baby brother wanted, then it was what he would give him.

"Please, Dean, say it out loud. I need to hear it. I want you to promise never to…try that ever again." Sam ordered. Almost mechanically, Dean opened his mouth, following the simple order which held so much meaning for him.

"I promise. I'll never use my knife like that ever again." Dean said, the sentence feeling like both a blessing and a curse. He knew that, now that he had promised Sam, he would never ever feel that disgusting delicious feel of the metal slicing into his skin ever again, and that even if he tried, Sam would be sure to stop him. But now that he had lost the last true piece of independence he had left, he would be left to rely on his brother, who he knew wouldn't be able to stay with him for very long. But the trust in his baby brother's eyes, and the want which had now settled in the very core of his being were more than enough for him to put aside his thoughts and very hesitantly reach out toward his brother. A moment later he felt Sam's larger hand entwine with his own and he looked up and saw the pure joy on his brother's face. He felt a smile, a real one, form on his face as he completely pushed away the thought of being used. He gave his brother and almost imperceptible nod, a signal he hoped his baby brother would understand. When Sam's hand clenched his own, the simplicity of the feeling sent an amazing surge of emotion through him.

"Did you mean it? When you said you wanted me to be all yours?" Dean asked, a little embarrassed by the question. He watched as the predatory grin made its way across the younger Winchester's face again.

"Hell yes. I'm going to make sure you're mine, and only mine." Sam said as he moved his hand to the button of the older Winchester's jeans. His breath hitched as Sam pressed down and looked into his eyes again, asking for permission. Dean nodded again and felt as his brother's fingers deftly undid the button and fly. The older Winchester raised his hips off the bed to allow his baby brother to remove the pair of jeans and his boxer briefs in one quick fluid motion. He watched his brother's gaze head downwards and felt another blush form as he felt exposed in front of his brother. When Sam's hand wrapped around his cock, he jumped and moaned in surprise, instantly becoming hard.

"Sam…God…" as his baby brother began to tease him, slowly moving his hand up and down. Sam's other hand slowly began to tease it's way up Dean's abdomen before beginning to tease one of his tanned nipples, taking away all coherency the older Winchester had left.

Shakily, he moved his hands to the button on Sam's jean and undid them. He watched as his baby brother pushed them away and took off his remaining clothing, moving his hand away from Dean, causing him to groan at the loss of contact. Once he had relieved himself, he leaned down and bit hard onto Dean's neck. The older Winchester jumped in surprise and in the process, inadvertently rubbed their erections together, causing them both to moan at the new sensation. The younger Winchester pushed down, and the amazing sensations Dean had felt intensified. On impulse, he jumped up and began to grind his hips together with his baby brothers, eliciting a moan from the both of them. Dean felt his younger brother cover his mouth with his own and he parted his lips in both a moan and to allow Sam's tongue access. Their movements began to get more and more erratic as they both got closer and closer to the edge, both moaning and groaning with intensifying noise as time passed. Just as he felt he couldn't take anymore, Dean put his hands onto his brother's chest and pushed him away, causing the younger man's eyes to shoot open in confusion. Sam's gaze seemed as though it demanded an answer and so he reached beside the bed into his duffel bag and after a few seconds of searching, he pulled out a bottle of lube. He thrust it into his brother's general direction, unable to look Sam in the face. When Sam pressed his lips to Dean's again, the older Winchester closed his eyes and relaxed again, although he felt his face heat up. He heard a click and some squirting for a minute and then a finger placed at his opening, but no more movement.

"Dean, are you sure you want to do this?" Sam whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. The older Winchester nodded one last time and with that, gave his baby brother all the permission he needed. Very slowly, one finger slid inside and Dean winced in pain.

"You…haven't done this before, have you?" Sam asked as he began to slide in another finger. The older Winchester forced himself to relax at the new intrusion, although pain still ghosted over his features. It felt like Sam was searching for something, but the older Winchester had no idea what. Then he felt them brush against something, and he tensed up as shockwaves of pleasure ran through his body. A third finger was added for a moment, but Dean didn't even notice as the waves of pleasure continued to rebound inside his body. Before long, Sam pulled out, and Dean groaned slightly at the odd feeling. However a minute later, he felt his younger brother position himself at his entrance, grabbing his hips for leverage, before beginning to slide in, slowly. The older Winchester screwed his eyes shut in even more pain than in the beginning despite having been stretched out. He gripped at the sheets, to keep from screaming.

"You never answered me, Dean. You've never done this before, have you?" Sam asked again, with his teeth clenched. "God you feel good…" he continued to say, ending in a groan. The older Winchester just shook his head no, afraid that he would scream if he opened his mouth. It wasn't long until Sam had slid in completely, and Dean let out his breath in a quiet gasp. Tears of pain began to well up in his eyes, but they were quickly wiped away by his baby brother.

"Hurts Sammy…" was all Dean could say

"I know, but it'll feel better soon, I promise. Just bear with it a little longer, ok?" Sam said, before sliding out. Dean forced himself to relax even as he waited for more pain. To his surprise, when Sam slid in again, a jolt of pleasure shot through him again, and a strangled moan escaped his throat. On impulse, he wrapped his arms around the younger Winchester's torso. His baby brother leaned down to kiss Dean's neck, as he began to speed up.

"Faster…" Dean begged as the pleasure caused his to see stars. His baby brother complied as he began to move with a reckless abandon, both seeking release, causing louder and louder groans to escape from Dean's mouth. It wasn't long, until both reached completion, crushing their mouths together to cover up their moaning. Exhausted, Dean felt Sam's weight crush him to the bed as they both tried to catch their breath. After a minute or two, Dean felt his baby brother pull out and he moaned again.

"Something wrong, Dean?" Sam asked as Dean felt him move off of him onto the bed. To the older Winchester's surprise, he felt himself being pulled along with Sam, until he was lying virtually on top of him. The soft, gentle hug his baby brother was giving him brought a lump to his throat which he suppressed with difficulty.

"No, just feels weird. And hurts…just a bit."Dean replied as he came off of his high and realized how tired his body was.

"I know how you feel." Sam said with a wink, indicating that Dean looked like he was a second from dropping dead asleep. "Damn, you really tired me out…" he continued, causing Dean to blush.

"Really. Glad to know I still have it." Dean decided to tease back, hoping Sam wouldn't notice the blush as a sign of weakness.

"You…were a virgin weren't you?" Sam asked, while his eyes closed. "You never answered me."

"Yeah…I've uh, never done this with a guy before." Dean said looking away. He felt feather light kisses being placed on his jaw, a caring gesture which confused him.

"Huh…" was all the younger Winchester said, causing anxiety to sprout inside of Dean.

"What are you thinking?" asked, Dean, sure he could get away with asking a question now, during the afterglow.

"Nothing, just…I feel bad now. I was way too rough for a virgin. I'll be gentler tomorrow night, I promise." Sam replied through an exhausted yawn.

"You think?" Dean asked, surprised at the thought of Sam being gentler than he had been. The younger Winchester hadn't intentionally tried to hurt him, and even though there had been a lot of pain, Sam had been slow enough that Dean understood it could have hurt a hell of a lot more if Sam hadn't given a damn about his condition afterwards. He blushed at the thought of what he had just done, of what they had just done, of the way he had now been marked as Sam's. However, before he could voice his thoughts, he heard Sam begin to whisper.

"No more thinking for tonight, Dean. We can talk in the morning, but right now, I can barely keep my eyes open." The older Winchester nodded and let his body go completely limp in Sam's arms, counting on him for support. A kiss was pressed to his hair, and he heard Sam whisper good night as he wrapped his arms around the older Winchester, before quickly drifting off into sleep, Dean not too far behind him. The older Winchester felt himself almost smile through the slight pain as Sam's arm's tightened around him in a hug, pressing him to his brother's chest, even though the younger Winchester was already asleep. It seemed almost comical to Dean, like his baby brother has holding on to a teddy bear, until he sadly remembered the most important thing.

'_Nothing more than his toy…'_ Dean reprimanded himself silently before falling asleep a moment later.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: As promised, here is the next chapter. I wanted it up yesterday, but I did say Sunday at the latest. So here it is, enjoy, and please leave many, many reviews. A big thank you to everyone who reads and reviews, or who puts me on their favorites, or alerts. You guys rock.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. Only the plot is mine.

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Chapter 8

The first thing Dean felt in the morning was a pain which radiated from his center out, and the feeling of a warm body beside him. He burrowed deeper into the arms of the person holding him almost unconsciously, before he realized that on the other side if this warmth, there had to be someone. His eye shot open, and found himself staring into his brother's eyes, Sam apparently already awake. As memories of the night before flooded his senses, he felt himself shocked at the thought of what they had done.

'_That…that really happened? And he said we're together?'_ Dean thought in a daze, feeling more confused than ever before.

"Good morning…"Sam growled huskily, before ending in a yawn.

"Morning." Dean replied, still very out of it. He blinked several times, expecting his brother to disappear into nothing, or for his alarm to wake him up.

"Something wrong?"Sam asked, sounding a little worried.

"No, just…did last night really happen?" Dean asked, feeling almost stupid for asking something which seemed so obvious. To his relief, he heard Sam let out a laugh and he pressed a chaste kiss to Dean's lips, electrifying the older Winchester.

"Yeah, it did." Sam said, his smile growing wider every minute. Dean felt himself react in the same way, a smile transforming his face. He relaxed against Sam, assured this was real, loving the warmth of his baby brother holding him. When he looked back up, the same grin was on Sam's face, which made him laugh softly.

"Why do you keep smiling?" Dean asked, staring at his brother's happy expression, and wondering if his own happiness shone in the same fashion.

"Because this is real. Because I finally get to have you in my arms, and I finally get to keep you with me. Because you're finally mine. And I'm not planning to let go." Sam said, and Dean felt himself being pressed tighter against his brother, causing a lump to form in his throat he quickly dismissed.

'_Be careful not to get too attached…_' Dean reminded himself. Still, he couldn't help, returning the gesture, the warmth of Sam's arms feeling almost like a sanctuary to him.

"Dean, I need to know, though. Can I trust you with the promise you made me last night? You won't ever hurt yourself ever again?" Sam asked and Dean stiffened against him. He had almost completely forgotten about that.

'_Can I actually do it? Can I stop doing that? I know I promised Sammy, but I've done it for so long…'_ Dean looked up at his little brother's face before becoming resolute. _'Yeah, I can. I won't ever do it again. I won't ever use the knife ever again. I swear Sam. No matter what happens I won't ever do something stupid like that ever again. I'd do anything for you. If it makes you happy, it's fine with me.'_

"Thank you, Dean." Sam said, his eyes bright with tears, and it wasn't until this moment that Dean realized he had been thinking out loud. Sam crushed him against his chest, and the older Winchester reveled in the feeling, contently staying in the warmth, until realizing how much they still needed to do.

"Sam, as much as I'd love to stay like this, we need to get up. We should get going tonight or sometime soon, and we need to get ready." Dean reluctantly left his brother's embrace and sat up. Suddenly he realized he was still in pain, and he winced.

The older Winchester stood up slowly, testing out the limits of the movements he could make while being able to take the spasms of pain coursing through him. Suddenly he realized he was still completely naked and he quickly searched for his jeans, finding them discarded beside the bed. Slowly, he reached down and untangled his underwear from them before putting on the boxer briefs. Behind him he heard a laugh escape his brother's mouth.

"What's so funny, Sammy?" Dean asked, and the laughter intensified.

"I'm learning more about you is all." Sam responded, sounding a bit too innocent for Dean to be happy.

"And what have you learned?" The older Winchester asked, turning around to face his baby brother.

"Well, I learned you love being touched, if this morning was anything to go by. You're really vocal during sex," Sam teased and Dean felt his face heat up, "and if you looking for clothes and the blushing are anything to go by, you're a lot more shy than you let on." The older Winchester smiled at his little brother before they both began to look for clothing they could put on so they could get done with the rest of the day. Once they were properly dressed, Dean sought his brother again, burrowing into his arms, for both support and just for the feel of it.

"Are you hurt? I know what it feels like after the first night. Are you in a lot pain?"Sam suddenly asked in a concerned tone which caused warmth to blossom inside of the older Winchester, which Dean pushed down after realizing what he was doing in his head.

"No, I'm okay. It hurts a little, but I'll be alright."Dean replied, as he felt the pain subside into a dull ache. This was something he could handle. It wasn't too bad right now, and Dean was confident he could handle it for the rest of the day.

"You know, you didn't strike me as the type to be a virgin of anything." Sam teasingly whispered, and Dean felt the tops of his ears burn brightly, as the pink sneaked onto his cheeks.

"I didn't think about doing this with any other guy except you. I can appreciate when a guy's attractive, but you ended up always being on my mind." Dean surprised himself with his own honesty, but was glad for it as soon as he saw Sam's eyes to grow bright with happiness

"I like this feeling though. The thought of you with a woman's enough to drive me crazy, but the thought of seeing you with another guy is enough to kill me. The fact that I was with you the first time is…I can't describe it. It just feels good, you know?" Sam replied before placing another kiss, this time soft and slow.

"Yeah, I know. I love the thought that you were my first, trust me." Dean replied after the kiss, leaning on his brother before pulling away.

"Come one, we have a lot to do." Dean said with a smile as he picked up his car keys. He felt Sam sling an arm almost possessively around his shoulders and didn't know whether to laugh, or to smile at the thought of being Sam's.

"Here, let me dri-" Sam began, but Dean quickly cut him off, looking for a laugh from his brother.

"No, I don't care how much pain I'm in, I'm still a way better driver than you. There's no way in hell I'm letting you drive my baby." Dean said, and was rewarded by a laugh as he and Sam exited the motel room, connected by his little brother's arm and the warmth which radiated from the other's body.

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One Month Later… 

"… and I know you boys are young. I understand. I remember what it was like being that age and fighting with my sister, but you really need to keep it down, ok? My other clients were really upset last night. Said they couldn't get any sleep with you screaming or something. If you do it again, I'm going to have to kick the two of you out." Dean heard the woman in front of him say. He had distracted himself while she was talking, but managed to half-listen enough that he understood.

"I got it, Janice. Tell everyone we're sorry, and it won't happen again. We really didn't mean to bother anyone. It just got out of hand."Dean lied, hoping to end the conversation as quickly as possible as pain shot from the center of his body, forcing him to clench his hands to avoid wincing.

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again." Janice responded and Dean nodded before walked away.

Once he was out of sight of the clerk, he grimaced for a moment before he felt an arm snake across his waist. Quickly he recomposed his face as he was pulled into his little brother's arms. His body protested the quick movement, but he refused to let out the cry which formed inside his throat. Instead he felt himself melt against Sam's touch, enjoying the feeling of his brother's arm around his center and the warmth radiating from Sam's body as he was pressed against it. Once they had started this, the older Winchester had expected Sam to act the same as he always had, but to his surprise, Sam always went out of his way to show Dean some kind gesture he appreciated, but never understood. The almost loving touches were a constant with Sam, the younger Winchester always hugging Dean, or holding his hand, or something of the like once no one was around, and Dean loved every minute of it all, especially being held. He loved this feeling, being hugged in Sam's arms. It felt right, and while they were together like this, Dean could forget about everything and almost feel like Sam really did love him, even though once it was over, the harsh reality settled over him once more.

"Did you miss me?" Sam asked in a cheerful tone which coaxed a smile onto the older Winchester's face, even through the waves of pain which rolled through his being.

"Maybe…" Dean teased, which caused his baby brother to laugh softly. "But we just got into a lot of trouble because of you. I just got a really long lecture about how we kept everyone up last night."

"You know, we wouldn't have gotten in trouble if you hadn't yelled so loudly…" Sam whispered as he brought his lips to Dean's ear, causing shiver to run through him and a light blush to settle onto his face. "Who would have thought my Dean was a screamer…" Sam continued, and the blush on the older Winchester darkened as he felt a warm feeling settle in his stomach when he heard the words 'my Dean'. The thought that he had been claimed by Sam was something which still made him shiver in delight. Although, when he thought back on his brother's actual words, he felt himself starting to be pulled into his thoughts.

'_I wouldn't have yelled that loud if I hadn't been in so much pain._' Dean thought as he felt Sam entwine his hand with his own. He loved doing this. He was finally with his baby brother, even if he was just being used. But something he couldn't get used to was how insatiable his little brother was. The younger Winchester had demanded sex at least once every day for the past month, and while Dean enjoyed himself immensely, the ache which always stayed with him afterwards still hadn't gone away by the time Sam had asked again. Still the thought of keeping his baby brother happy was all it took to keep his mouth shut and simply let the younger have his way. Sam had always been gentle, going slowly and preparing Dean to keep the pain to a minimum, but even that wasn't enough to stop the ache from reappearing. And the past week, the pain had escalated to the point where it was interfering with doing even the most simple of things. The older Winchester hoped Sam wouldn't try to start something during the day time now that they didn't have a hunt to accomplish. Luckily, Sam had only started things this week at night, after they had returned to the motel room at night. In the dark he could grimace as much as he wanted, and he could excuse the loud moans as the height of passion. He didn't know how well he would be able to handle the pain during the day time. Even worse, it was affecting his work. During their hunt, he was sure he had messed up big, although his brother hadn't commented on it, so Dean was pretty sure he was in the clear.

"Hey, Dean, can I ask you a question?" Sam asked, bringing Dean back to the real world. Just as fast as his thoughts had overwhelmed him, the warmth of Sam's body was enough to push them away and return him to his happy mood.

"Sure, Sammy, what's on your mind?" Dean asked with a smile, slowly turning around in his brother's arms to look him in the eyes.

"You've…you've kept your promise to me, right? You haven't been doing anything with that knife when you're in the shower or when I'm not looking?" Sam asked in an odd mix of authority which demanded the truth and the uncertainty of a person afraid of an answer they don't want to hear.

Dean looked at his brother in shock, wondering what he had done that had made his brother think he had broken his promise. He'd felt it call to him from time to time, like a habit which refused to die, but the reminder that he would have betrayed Sam's trust always stopped him from giving in to these urges. As it was, he was already in enough pain from his little brother's constant use of him that sometimes, the urge died away with the dull ache which always seemed to follow him, especially recently.

"No, I haven't. I promise. Why? What did I do wrong?" The older Winchester asked in confusion.

"No, you haven't done anything." Sam assured him and the older Winchester relaxed for a moment before realizing his curiosity had not yet been sated.

"Then why are you asking?" Dean asked apprehensively

"Just…right now, during our last hunt, you were acting really sluggish, and I got kind of worried, that…you know…"Sam trailed off at the end, and Dean cursed himself for the pain he was in.

'_Shit he did notice. But he thinks it's because I've been messing with myself?'_

"No, Sam, I wouldn't do that. I promised you I wouldn't, and I haven't." Dean assured his baby brother, and he was rewarded with a small smile.

"I know. And I trust you, but it was kind of worrying me. You looked like you were in pain sometimes, and then, sometimes you would wince or groan a little when we were digging up the body. So, that had nothing to do with you hurting yourself?" Sam asked again, although, he seemed much calmer than before.

"No, I haven't hurt myself since the day I sliced up my hand. I promise I haven't." Dean firmly reassured

"I'm glad." Sam said, and the older Winchester let himself rest against his brother again. "But…then if you aren't hurt because you cut yourself, then why did you look like you were in pain?"

"I…I don't really know. I didn't even notice. Don't worry about it." Dean said, waiting for the younger Winchester to relax. But to his surprise, instead he felt Sam stiffen against him.

"I can't just let this go, though. I need to know you're okay. You aren't hurt? You haven't hurt yourself?" Sam asked again, which was starting to frustrate the older Winchester

"I'm telling you I'm fine. I haven't cut myself." Dean said, his patience beginning to run thin.

"But, then how did you get hurt?"Sam persisted, much to Dean annoyance.

'_Damn it, Sam, quit thinking so much. Just let it go._' Dean wished silently, but as he felt Sam become increasingly more curious, he knew that wouldn't happen. He sighed, knowing this wouldn't go away, unless he managed to distract Sam. So he disentangled himself from his brother's arms, ignoring the look of shock on Sam's face as he walked toward their room, sure he would be followed. He heard Sam call out to him, but chose to ignore it, heading to their door as quickly as the pain allowed him to without arousing his brother' suspicion. He quickly opened the door and walked in, leaving it as his brother entered and closed it right behind him. When Dean turned to look at his younger brother, he saw confusion etched onto his face and smiled.

Very slowly, he closed the distance between them and placed a kiss onto Sam's lips, waiting for his baby brother to react. Sure enough, a moment later, Sam had wrapped his arms around Dean and pressed him against his body, his tongue exploring the older Winchester's mouth. Dan felt himself being pushed backwards, and he smiled against his brother's mouth as he reached for the bottom of Sam's shirt and tugged, to show he wanted it gone. Sam quickly complied, stepping away quickly to remove it as Dean did the same, before they collided again, this time Sam attacking his neck, eliciting a loud moan to escape from the older Winchester's mouth. Dean shivered, lust nearly overtaking his senses as Sam bit, licked and nuzzled every inch of his neck. When he felt Sam's hands, which had previously been roving across his body suddenly stop at the top of his jeans, the lust was quickly mixed in an odd fashion with fear. He wanted Sam to continue, his body was demanding it, but if his brother went too quickly, he knew that he wouldn't be able to hide the pain or the screams this time. However, he didn't stop his baby brother as he quickly stripped him of his last remaining clothing before doing the same to himself. His brother pulled away and Dean took that to his advantage. The older Winchester stopped his baby brother with a seductive smile, and dropped to his knees and quickly engulfed the younger Winchester in his mouth, earning a moan from Sam as he began to move at a decent pace, neither too fast or two slow. Once he felt his brother begin to buck his hips he pulled away, and waited a moment before beginning again, setting a pattern he continued to follow.

Dean lost track of time as he slowly tortured Sam, bringing him to the edge and denying him release several times. He knew the only hope he would have for Sam to forget was to get him so worked up that he wouldn't remember what they'd been talking about before. It was a dirty trick, and he felt disgusting doing it, but he knew they needed to do this. Suddenly, it seemed Sam wouldn't wait anymore, as he pulled away and took Dean by surprise by shoved him on the bed. A moment later, he felt his baby brother roughly probe him with one finger, and Dean was so surprised by the unexpectedly harsh movements he couldn't stop the scream which escaped his mouth. Just like that, everything froze and the older Winchester felt his little brother pull out in shock. The older Winchester looked up and grew worried as he looked at his brother's impassive face, staring at the blood on his hand. Sam kept changing his gaze from the blood on his finger to Dean, as if not making the connection until quickly standing up and running to the restroom. The older Winchester heard the running water, and knew Sam was ridding himself of his dirty blood as he wiped away the tears created by both the pain and the despair which began to build in his being. A moment later, Dean saw his baby brother return, with a worried expression.

"Dean, did I hurt you last night?" Sam asked, his voice quavering in slight fear. Dean felt the shame of the fact he had screamed, and that he was now making his brother worried. The fear in Sam's voice was killing him, and he averted his eyes even as he fumbled for the first lie which came to mind in a way to alleviate his baby brother's fear.

"I…I guess. I didn't even notice. It didn't hurt until just now. Look, don't worry about it, just…just get on with it." Dean said, hoping Sam would take the bait. He looked up and had even started to move his hands back toward his brother's body until his brother harshly slapped them away, something akin to anger burning in his eyes.

"Get on with what, raping you? Dean, I hurt you and you knew I did and…and that's why your hunting was sluggish. You should have told me. God, Dean, you could have been killed." Sam said, his voice rising slightly before his eyes widened in realization and Dean grew small, almost as if he was trying to disappear into himself. "Have I hurt you before Dean?"

"No, no you haven't. This was the first time." Dean fumbled, wanting to look away from his brother's gaze, as if that would make sure his lie would be full-proof.

"You're lying to me." Sam accused, and Dean felt himself grow even smaller. "How long have I been hurting you?" Dean stayed completely silent, too ashamed to even form words. "Answer me!" The younger Winchester demanded, causing Dean to flinch at the dramatic increase in his voice. However, Dean could still not form a response, but his silence was the only answer Sam needed.

"Oh, god, you…I…since the beginning?" Sam asked, sounding dangerously close to tears, causing tears to appear in the older Winchester's eyes. He finally looked away, unable to handle the feelings which he could plainly see in his little brother's eyes.

"Dean, how the fuck could you be so stupid! I could have gotten you killed! What were you thinking?" Sam began to yell at this point, seemingly unable to remain calm anymore

"Sam, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scream and-"Dean began to apologize, frantic, before being interrupted by his baby brother

"God damn it, I don't care if you screamed! I'm glad you did, because otherwise, you would've been so stupid you wouldn't have told me! That's not the problem here!" Sam yelled at the older Winchester in a burst of rage.

"What the fuck's the problem, then?!" Dean yelled back, unsure of why the anger had suddenly sprouted in his stomach, hot and burning.

"The fucking problem is that this is just as bad as when you were cutting yourself! Except now you're using me as the way to hurt yourself, and you're making our relationship the excuse to do it!" Sam yelled at the top of his voice

"I thought that was what you wanted and needed me to do!" Dean yelled back just as loud

"Why in the hell would I ever want to hurt you? Why would I need to?!" Sam screamed, eyes blazing

"I thought that was our deal. You get what you want, and you don't leave me." Dean said nearly as loud

"W-What?" Sam asked, sounding shocked

"I thought that was the deal, Sam. You get to relieve some tension and in exchange you don't leave me alone like last time; at least, not for a little while." Dean repeated, much quieter than before

"So the only reason you did any of this…was because you didn't want me to leave?" Sam said quietly

"It wasn't the only reason, but I thought it was the only one which would matter to you". Dean whispered so quietly, even he could barely hear himself. It was true, he did have other reasons for doing this, but what did it matter to his little brother that the sick bastard of a brother he was stuck with was in love with him

"You let me hurt you this entire month because you thought I would leave if you didn't?" Sam asked, his voice breaking slightly

"Why else would you stay with someone like me? I don't deserve to have anything else. If I've learned anything, it's that." Dean asked back, before looking away. He sat quietly, waiting for his little brother to do something, expecting a punch, or a yell, but to his surprise, Sam stayed completely silent. After a moment, he chanced a glance up and instantly regretted it. The stricken look on his brother's face almost broke his heart. His hands trembled with the urge to reach out, and do something, anything, to comfort Sam, but Dean found himself unable to, paralyzed by the thought that his brother's suffering was his fault. After a moment however, Sam simply shook his head, in a gesture of helplessness, and got up. The older Winchester watched as Sam quickly put on his clothing, a disgusted look on his face.

"I…I can't deal with this." Sam said, and a cold fear settled into the pit of Dean's stomach. He tried to say something, anything, but his throat closed as his little brother continued to say, "I…I'm leaving."

Dean felt himself grow numb as he body gave up and he simply watched in horror as Sam got up and left, the door slamming on his way out.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: To everyone I promised that I would have this up last weekend, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to leave it alone for so long, but a lot happened, and then my birthday was on Sunday. But still, that's no excuse. I had most of this written, but a few parts were still incomplete until today. So I'm pretty happy it's finally ready.. Now without further ado, here is the next part. A big thank you to all of my readers and to everyone who has reviewed. Don't forget to leave a review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I am only borrowing them for this story. The only thing I own is the plot.

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Chapter 9

Dean sat there, staring at the door long after Sam had left. The pain he had felt only moments before was dwarfed by the cold numbness which now pervaded his being. He simply sat there blinking, his mind feeling almost numb itself.

'_Sam's gone…He's not coming back this time…I'm alone…' _Dean thought as he felt himself begin to tremble. He watched his hands shake, more uncontrollable with each passing minute as his breathing grew quicker, more panicked, as he felt dark emotion, an unbearable surge of something unknown. Screaming, yelling, crying, all seemed like good ideas. He just needed to do something, anything, to vent the feeling of despair which seemed to overflow inside his body. Without thought he stood up and grabbed his duffel bag and keys. Moments passed incoherently, flashes of retrieving his clothes, walking out the room, stepping into the cool outside air, and suddenly, he found himself sitting in the Impala, the engine on, and his hands gripping the steering wheel almost painfully.

'_Where do I go from here?_' Dean thought with an ease which unnerved him._ 'I'm never going to see Sam again; there's no point in staying here, but what do I do from here?'_ The burning sensation of anger deep in his stomach, the ache in his chest, the despair building in his soul, all causing him to tremble under the weight of the uncontrollable emotion. The urge to break something or someone… or himself; all of it came in such a blinding flash, Dean wasn't sure what he was going to do. Dean felt himself set his jaw in fury even as the tears began to well up behind his eyes. All of it was culminating toward something he was afraid of, but also something he wanted to happen. Dean opened his mouth, almost ready to scream, when, to his surprise…he started to laugh. At first it was soft, quiet, almost like a chuckle, but with each passing moment it grew in volume and intensity, until he was full out laughing, tears streaming down his face. The impossibility of it all was just so overwhelming, and the fact that his worst nightmare had just become a reality…it just seemed so funny.

'_This shouldn't be happening. He wasn't supposed to leave yet. And when he left I thought I should be depressed, crying, or something, but I'm…what is this? Happy? This has to be the sickest version of happy there's ever been. Why is this so funny to me? It really isn't, but it's just…God, I must have gone insane. I'm sitting here laughing like a fucking psycho. If anyone saw me right now, they'd think I've lost my mind.'_

The thought that he had finally gone off the deep end just made him laugh even harder, as his sides began to ache.

'_When was the last time I laughed this hard? I can't remember. It's been years since I've laughed this hard…or even laughed for real. How long has it been? Since before Sam left?'_

Just as quickly as the perverse laughter had begun, suddenly it was over with that simple thought. Immediately he sobered up as his thought began a chorus in his mind.

'_When was the last time I laughed like that? When was the last time I was so happy I actually laughed?' _Dean thought back as joyous memories called out to him, as he painfully tried to recall when he had last been happy, truly happy, without the thoughts of his uselessness, his weakness plaguing his mind. He could remember making Sam laugh that hard, cheering him up after a hunt, doing whatever he could just to earn a smile from his baby brother, but try as hard as he could, he couldn't remember anything, not a single moment of pure joy he could hold on to. He could remember comforting his little brother after he had a nightmare, after he had been yelled at, after he had argued, but not one moment where he had let his guard down enough for someone to help him. He could remember soothing away his brother's tears, destroying his fears, protecting him, but nothing he could remember showed him anyone ever trying to comfort him, not that he ever showed anyone a thing, allowing things to release themselves only when he was sure no one was looking.

'_It's the same as it's always been. It's always been Sam. It'll always be Sam. At least when I'm with him, I have a purpose. I can make him happy, relaxed, relieved; I can give him my whole being. I forgot for a little while. Without Sam, I'm the same worthless person I've always been. I'll always be the freak, the guy everyone will always leave because of how damn weak he is. Sam is no different than the rest. He left…but he stayed longer than everyone else. I was actually starting to hope I could get him to stay for real this time. It might not have been real, he could have only been using me, but he was here, and I was actually starting to have faith again… I just lost him again. I just lost Sammy again. No more Sam. No more happiness. No more anything. And all because of me. All because I couldn't help myself from screaming. All because I wasn't strong enough to…do anything. I just sacrificed the only thing I am because of how pathetic I was.'_

The emotions began to die away, much to Dean's relief as the familiar cold began to sweep through his being once again. He embraced it, feeling it quell his emotional tide. He felt the same numb feeling he had right as he watched Sam leave for the first time. His hand twitched with the sudden insane urge to grab the knife hidden under his clothes in the duffel bag. The urge became maddening and before long, it was all he could think about. All he wanted to do was feel pain. More pain for screwing up like he had. He needed a punishment for what he had done. It wasn't long before Dean slowly unzipped the duffel bag and rummaged through it with one hand, the action feeling sure and familiar, but also dirty and traitorous. When his hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade, he felt a jolt run through him, a mixture of the feeling of being both burned and electrocuted. He gripped the hilt hard enough for it to hurt, a precursor for what was to come. He breathed in shakily as he disentangled his knife from the bottom of his bag. He pulled it out and examined it with great care, as one would a child. Inwardly, he ticked off every detail he noticed about the knife, the sheen of the metal, the feel of the hilt under his grip. He shivered as he slowly pressed the metal up against his skin, the sadistic pleasure of picking up where he had left off almost too much. But when he tried, he couldn't press any harder. He couldn't bring himself to let the skin of his wrist be sliced by the sharp blade. Why? Why couldn't he cut? No one was around, no one cared if he died…he deserved to die, so why couldn't he cut?

'_Because of Sam.' _Dean realized_. 'Because of what I promised Sam. He believed me. He smiled when I told him that. He looked so happy, so trusting. Like how he did when we were little kids. I don't want that to go away, even if I'm not going to see him again. I can't, because when I do, I know how he'll see me, and I don't want to imagine it. I…I can't do this. Even if he isn't here, I can't do this and know I betrayed him. I just can't.'_

Even so, Dean remained in that position, the knife held in his hand as he lost track of time. Lazily, he looked over in the direction of the street and just watched the traffic go by, no real urge to do anything, to go anywhere. The sun began to set, and Dean didn't think much of it. Nothing was different; everything in the world was the same. The only thing that had changed was Sam's life and his…whatever he had.

'_No point in just sitting here.' _Dean thought after some time._ ' It's the same as it was before. I'll manage, just like then.'_ Except it wouldn't be like before. Dean knew that. His baby brother had found a place in his life again, broken down all of his defenses, made the older Winchester depend on him. For however short, Dean had actually been happy, letting his brother use him in exchange for staying with him. He loved being with Sam, in every possible way. He loved Sam. He'd had a taste of what he'd always wanted, and he had screwed it up. There was no way to go back to the way it had been before, no way for it to just go away. Now that he had this memory, he knew from here it would only get worse. Progressively worse, until he would shut down, alone and dying in some unknown part of the country.

'_I knew this would happen anyway.' _Dean reprimanded himself._ 'I shouldn't be so stupid and clingy. No one needs a person like me on their conscience. Time to get going…' _Dean's thoughts were simple. Just bits of things he needed to remember as he put away the knife and closed his duffel bag. He put his keys into the ignition, briefly wondering when he had turned the car off, and decided to wait for a few moments for the car to warm up again.

"Dean!" Dean looked up in surprise into the rear-view mirror, looking to see who had just yelled his name. He saw a figure run toward his car, but didn't feel any real urge to get away. At this point, he wasn't really in much of a mood to care. If something happened, it would. Dean looked to his side, and almost laughed as he noticed he had rolled down his window. He was about to laugh, when the figure finally got to his car. He looked up, a ghost of a smile on his face when he froze, his jaw slackening and his eyes widening. Because staring right at him was Sam, a beyond pissed off look on his face and looking more threatening than anything he had ever seen before.

"Give me the keys!" Sam roared, and Dean quickly complied, shutting off the engine and handing them to his baby brother.

"Get out of the car." The younger Winchester was livid and Dean was quick to react. The moment the older Winchester had exited his car; Sam was all over him, grabbing his collar and almost slamming him against the car, only stopping himself at the last minute.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Sam growled furiously into his brother's face. The older Winchester just kept staring wide eyed at his brother, not believing Sam was actually in front of him, despite the pain of being pushed against the Impala by his strength.

"Sam…?" was all Dean could say, still unbelieving.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! You just vanished without warning! What were you thinking?!" Sam asked, his voice both louder and angrier with each question. Dean could only stare into his baby brother's angry face, his throat shut, unable to form words. Suddenly, he felt Sam press a hard kiss to his lips before pulling away and crushing against his chest. On impulse, he wrapped his arms around Sam, feeling safe for a brief moment, before the confusion returned, this time intertwined with the guilt of having hurt his brother.

"Damn it, Dean, do you know how worried I was? You just left. I was so scared when I walked into the motel room. I thought something happened to you, or you had done something to yourself. Jesus Christ, Dean." His baby brother sounded dangerously close to tears, and so he allowed himself to melt into the warm touch, unable to think properly anymore. Now close to Sam again, his emotions, his urge to stay with his baby brother, the fear he would be left by the only person he ever truly loved, the pain of having been probed so roughly, all of it swirled once again, on a much higher level than before. As hard as he could, he clutched the back of Sam's shirt and immediately, he felt his brother's embrace tighten in response.

"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice sounding concerned. Burying his face into his brother's shoulder, Dean shook with the emotion and the ache, which had returned now with a vengeance. The older Winchester was no longer able to tell whether Sam was scared or angry, and for a second Dean really didn't care.

'_Does it even really matter what he feels anymore? He's the one that left, not me.'_ A moment later however, Dean's thoughts turned back onto him. _'And that makes you worth something? Sam's the one who should have everything, not you. You knew that this would happen, and that this was as close to real happiness as you would ever get, but you did it anyway. Don't be mad at him for that.'_

"What were you thinking?" Sam asked again, quieter than he had before, but it was more than enough to gain the older Winchester's focus.

"I…was leaving."Dean said into his brother's shoulder.

"Where were you planning to go? Why?" Sam asked almost painfully

"I just needed to get out of here, Sam. I didn't think you were coming back." Dean responded, in a tired, shaking voice.

"What are you talking about?" The younger Winchester asked, sounding bewildered

"You…you told me you were leaving" Dean said, confused at the tone in his brother's voice

"I…what? No, I-" Sam began before realization dawned on his face. "Dean, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I just needed to clear my head. Just, our conversation…what you said… it was too much. I didn't mean I wasn't coming back." Sam said, much to his older brother's shock

"You weren't gonna leave?" Dean asked, more to himself than to Sam. He didn't believe his little brother, but even so, he felt hope grip his heart, even if for just a moment. His own stupidity, his weakness, his…just his failures, pushed it away, and Dean fought off the urge to tremble.

"I wasn't trying to scare you, Dean, but-"Sam began before Dean cut him off.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Dean blurted, as the trembling intensified. He felt tears begin to stream down his face for the second time that night as he vented all of his emotions once again, this time in a normal way.

"You're sorry? Dean, you shouldn't have to-"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Dean began to sob, the despair, hope, anger, depression, sadness too much as he repeated the words in between gasps. Vaguely, he felt his little brother get back into the car, pulling him down too. Now virtually on his brother's lap, he continued to apologize, even as tremors wracked his body.

"I'm sorry…I-I'm sorry…I'm s-sorry." Dean felt the arms around his waist tighten, and his little brother began to rock him slowly as he whispered into his ear.

"Dean, it's okay. I'm here now. It's fine. Just let it all out." Sam soothed, only making the older Winchester sob harder, the disgust of his weakness fueling the trembling. He lost the ability to speak as it got harder and harder to breathe with each passing moment, the stinging tears still flowing from his eyes. Dean closed them, unsure of why fear had suddenly flared within him. The older Winchester felt several lifetimes go by as he sobbed, harder than he ever had before, his brother's attempt at soothing murmurs only causing them to become stronger, but even so, Dean tried to say something

"I'm so sorry. I- Sam, I could've-If I wasn't so weak, then this-I'm sorry-God I can't-Please just-This is all-I shouldn't have-but-" Dean tried to speak, but sobs would force him to stutter, and after stopping another thought would suddenly escape his mind. He grew more and more panicked as he cursed himself for not being able to express himself and his breathing grew uneven and harsh. He couldn't get enough air into his system, he couldn't get out anything right, everything was just-

"Dean! Calm down! You need to calm down! " Sam ordered loudly, causing Dean to flinch slightly. He began to get lightheaded even as he tried to focus on his baby brother. "Dean, listen to me! Can you hear me?" Dean nodded, and Sam continued, "Okay. Try to slow your breathing down. Focus on my breathing and try to match it." Dean heard his brother's breathing become deep and even, and he tried to slow his frantic breathing, at first unsuccessfully until, after several minutes he sounded the same as Sam. His sobs died down and his trembling stopped as the older Winchester calmed down enough to speak.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Dean repeated, this time in better control of his voice.

"Dean you don't need to…"Sam began before sighing, seeming to come to a better decision. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I'm just sorry for…everything. For screaming, for being in pain, for being so weak, for being useless, selfish, stupid, worthless; for making us argue, making you worry, not being able to give you everything you need…" The words were difficult for Dean to say, and when he felt his brother's body stiffen against his own, he quickly stood up, expecting Sam to have been disgusted. His little brother stood up just as quickly beside him, with a stricken expression on his face.

"…Where is all of this coming from?" Sam said, his tone anguished, even as he forced it to remain level. The older Winchester's eyes became downcast as he thought about how to explain this to his little brother. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought of lying, but he knew Sam wouldn't take any lies right now.

"It's just…the truth. Just the way things are." Dean murmured, his voice an anguished whisper.

"Why?" Sam asked just as quietly.

"Because it is. I told you before, Sam. Don't you remember? After you caught me cutting myself? No one's ever going to want me because I'm not good enough. No one's ever going to love me because I don't deserve it. No one's going to save me because, why would they want to save someone so weak? I've told you before, I don't matter to anyone. Not to Dad, not to any of the people I save…not to you." Dean's voice cracked on the last part before continuing to say, "Sammy, I love you. And it's ok that you don't love me. I don't deserve it. I never have. I never will. I understand that. So this argument, I know it's my fault. The pain's my problem. I know you need to get rid of some tension, so just…use me. It's the reason you were staying, so just…let this go. Please." The older Winchester closed his eyes as he heard a breath escape from his little brother. Dean was ready to take anything Sam would do, but he didn't want to see the disgust which he was sure must have been pasted onto his features. He lay waiting, several minutes passing by, before he realized Sam wasn't doing anything.

Dean tentatively looked into his brother's eyes and was surprised to see disappointment and a sadness which bordered on despair emanating from Sam's eyes. He was about to ask about it, when he saw his baby brother shake his head almost sadly.

"Oh, Dean…" Sam said, pity evident in his tone.

"What? What's wrong? What did I do wrong now?" Dean asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. When he saw his brother shake his head again, he just grew more and more confused.

"Do you really think what you said is true? That no one loves you? That I don't? That you don't deserve it? That the only reason I'm still here is for the sex?" Sam sounded like he was almost pleading for Dean to say the right answer, but now the older Winchester wasn't sure which one that was anymore.

"I…is there another reason? If I hadn't…If I wasn't so… just…yes, I do" The older Winchester mumbled, the words jumbling as they uncomfortably escaped his mouth. He felt his cheeks flame and he couldn't meet his brother's gaze. He felt a ringing in his ears as the silenced deafened him. After several moments, Dean felt Sam's arm wrap itself around his shoulders as a quick kiss was pressed to his lips. He didn't even want to try and look up to see what Sam's reaction was.

"Come on, let's go inside." Sam murmured the order gently and Dean felt his brother direct him toward the motel room. He gave no resistance as Sam moved him into and through the motel to their room, unable to look up. His brother made sure not to go quickly as if to make sure the pain in the center of his being didn't spread as badly as it had before. Before he knew it, they were back in front of their room, and Sam pulled away to open the door. Dean walked in along with his brother, who placed the older Winchester's duffel bag beside the unused bed.

'_When did he get my bag?_' Dean wondered for a moment, before deciding it didn't really matter. Even so, he couldn't help but feel hurt for a moment at his brother's actions. _'So he doesn't want me to sleep in the same bed either, huh?'_

"Come here, Dean." Sam commanded and the older Winchester complied, slowly sitting next to his little brother. When he dared to glance up, he saw his brother removing his clothing, and watched in confusion. After Sam was done he gave the older Winchester an odd glance, as if asking why he was still fully clothed. Tentatively, he moved his hands to the hem of his shirt, and looked at his brother for approval. When Sam nodded, he quickly removed his shirt and his jeans, despite the slight ache, as if looking for something to at least slightly redeem himself. Once he had relieved himself of his clothing, he looked back at his brother, and saw a flicker of lust and something he couldn't understand pass on his baby brother's face. The older Winchester waited for Sam to do something, and was rewarded with a kiss a minute later. He felt Sam gently guide him down onto the bed, under the covers. When his baby brother pulled away, he expected Sam to continue, but to his surprise, instead he was pressed against his brother's chest in a hug, like the way they had slept every night after making love. Dean looked at Sam, curious, and he saw a sad smile make its way across his brother's face.

"Get some rest, Dean. You're still in pain right?" Sam asked, and Dean nodded, knowing Sam demanded complete honesty right now. "Let's go to sleep, ok?"

Dean nodded again, and made himself comfortable against his brother, despite his confusion. He felt his brother's arms tighten around him, holding him close, and the warmth immediately caused his eyes to begin to droop, having been unaware of how tired his body really was. Sam pressed a kiss against the nape of his neck, which confused him for a moment, before he felt his body respond more and more to the warm feeling of being touched by Sam once again.

"Good night Dean." Sam whispered softly. Near drifting off, the older Winchester barely heard his brother's words.

"G'night Sammy." Dean mumbled and he heard Sam say something he couldn't make out before drifting off into a blissful sleep.


End file.
